


Once Upon a December

by bucklesomeswashswan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Steampunk, Anastasia AU, Captain Swan - Freeform, Captain Swan AU - Freeform, Captain Swan Big Bang, Captain Swan Big Bang 2018, F/M, Killian and Ruby friendship and partners in crime, Slow Burn, Some Descriptions of Violence, Steampunk Anastasia AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-29
Updated: 2018-12-01
Packaged: 2019-07-20 08:13:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 62,755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16133258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bucklesomeswashswan/pseuds/bucklesomeswashswan
Summary: Emma doesn't remember much of her past, all she knows is she needs to get out of Misthaven. The mysterious group called the Industrialists continues to gain power and control since they overthrew the royal family over a decade ago. Out of options, Emma joins forces with a conman Killian and his partner Ruby in their plot to pass her off as the lost princess of Misthaven. But as they travel together and Killian and Ruby try to teach her how to be a princess, Emma begins to uncover hidden pieces of her past. When threats start closing in around them will she choose to escape to safety or risk everything to find her family and reveal a dangerous secret that could change history forever?





	1. Long Ago

**Author's Note:**

> check it out on Tumblr too! @bucklesomeswashswan

_~ Misthaven, 13 years ago ~_

Emma jumped as another crash sounded, this one louder than the others. It made the ancient walls of the castle tremble around them. She slowed her steps to stare as the flames in the gas lamps flickered and danced. All her life these thick walls and the towering halls had been her sanctuary. She had never imagined anything could change that. Again, screams and shouts echoed down the stone corridors growing closer. 

“Hurry, Your Majesty,” the palace guard with them said again gesturing to her mother.

“Emma, come on,” she said pulling her along. 

She stumbled over the hem of the long coat she had been hastily shoved into as they hurried down the back corridors of the castle. She wanted to ask her mother to slow down but something stopped her, maybe it was the way her mother was gripping her hand so tightly or the crease between her eyebrows that she had never seen before. 

This was different from the time she had smashed the vase the diplomat from Agrabah had brought, now her mother’s expression was more similar to the one Emma had seen after the council meetings that had taken up so much of her time recently. Meetings Emma wasn’t allowed to attend, meetings that caused her parents to have arguments in harsh whispers late at night. Hushed discussions of the Industrial Guild, the new trade agreements, and other things she didn’t understand.

The guard slid to a stop before an unremarkable stretch of stone wall. He ran his hands over the wall looking for something.

“We don’t have time for this,” her father whispered urgently as they watched the guard becoming more and more frantic as he traced the edges of each of the stones.

“With all due respect, Your Majesty, you’ll want to make time for this. There is no way you’re walking out the main gates,” the guard muttered before letting out an exclamation as his fingers hooked an unseen lever in the crack between two stones.

There was the grinding sound of gears from some mechanism behind the wall and slowly a small opening emerged until there was a narrow doorway into a dark passage. Emma baulked taking a small step back. 

She had heard of the tunnels under the castle. There were stories the children of the castle would tell to scare each other, of ghosts and monsters that lived deep under the castle, always some creeping evil right under their noses that would slither out and grab them in the night. Those stories had kept her up at night haunting her and she would stayed curled up in bed her eyes glued to the doors and windows waiting for some dark shadow to appear. Eventually her mother had explained that they were just old smuggling tunnels that had been unused for years, but it hadn’t completely eased her fear.

“Mama, I don’t think-” Emma began pleading, she didn’t want to go down into the dark dank tunnels. 

“Emma, please,” her father said already a step into the passage. She looked up to see him beckoning her forward. His expression more worried than she’d ever seen it. “We have to go now.”

With a swallow and all the courage she could muster, Emma took a small step after her parents. The moment she crossed into the passage the hidden door was slammed shut plunging them into total darkness. She reached out her hands searching for anything to grab hold of in the emptiness, something to guide her. 

A greenish light flared from the luminator the guard pulled from his pocket. It made her blink and turn away squinting. The light cast sickly shadows over the rough hewn walls and made their faces look almost skeletal. 

The guard waved them forward moving at a quick pace. Emma’s heeled boots clicked on the hard packed floors. Each corner, each new tunnel that branched off seemed to hold another creeping nightmare in the shadows. Instead of letting her imagination get the best of her she tried to think of where they might be in relation to the castle overhead. The kitchens? The council chamber? She thought again of her bedroom in one of the towers overhead. Suddenly it seemed like such a silly thing to have fought going to bed for so many years, now all she wanted was to curl into her warm bed and wait for this strange night to pass.

She had lost track of the turns they made and all sense of direction by the time they stopped at a worn and rusted door. The guard was speaking quickly to her parents giving instructions on how they would get to the port, what streets to avoid, and the name of the airship, the _Legacy_ , that would take them to safety. Emma fidgeted with her coat, she didn’t know what they were talking about. She wondered at what age you started to understand adults when they talked like that, ten it seemed was still too young.

“Emma,” her mother said turning to her and kneeling down. “My sweet girl,” she placed her hands heavily on her shoulders. She looked up, she had never heard that waver in her mother’s voice before.

“Mama-”

“Listen, Emma, you have to run now, quiet as you can. We have to run to the port. We have to get on a ship and sail away from here.”

Emma shook her head trying to hold back the tears. Go? Go where? This was their home. What would happen to her room, her toys, her friends? When would they be back? was all too much. “But I don’t want to go.”

Her mother smiled sadly. “I know. I don’t want to go either.”

Emma frowned. “Then why, can’t we just-”

“Emma,” her mother said her eyes closing for a moment as she took a deep breath. “Emma, I want to give you something. Something that is very special.”

Another crash sounded, this one right over their heads causing a thin cloud of dust to float down around them. But Emma looked only at her mother, the way she slowly slipped off her ring, the silver band with the bright emerald. The one that never left her mother’s finger.

“This ring was given to me by your father, only after I’d stolen it from him of course,” Emma nodded she’d heard this story before. “But before that this ring belonged to your grandmother, it was given to her by her true love. This ring follows true love, it always brings true love together. Always. And this ring will always lead you back home.”

Then her mother was pressing the ring into her hand. Emma glanced between her parents before opening her hand to look at the ring, the way the green stone flashed in the dim light. She slipped the ring onto her own finger, but it was comically large on her small fingers and it made her feel suddenly very young. It wouldn’t fit properly for many years.

“I don’t know,” Emma said hesitantly wrapping her hand into a fist around the ring. “It’s your ring.”

Her mother shook her head. “But it’s not just my ring. The ring has magic and it’s protected our family. It will protect you too, Emma.”

When Emma didn’t seem convinced she continued, “If it would make you feel better, you can give it back to me when we get on the ship.”

Emma nodded slowly at first, but with her mother’s ring she did feel stronger, braver. She had the magic of her family and their true love with her. 

Her mother pressed a small kiss to her forehead before she stood and gave a quick nod to the guard. “Now,” she said her voice commanding. The voice of the queen.

The door was flung open and the guard led the way into the shadowy street. Emma was just glad to be out of the tunnels. These streets were familiar to her, she had wandered them on many occasions. Just last week her father had taken her down to the market to pick out flowers for her mother.

But tonight there was something different about the streets. Tonight they were alive and roiling with an anger she had never seen. The shouting and explosions from within the castle seemed to have overflowed out into the town. There was a red haze across the town from several buildings on fire, flames licking at the sky, the windows bursting with a crash. Emma stayed close to her father as they ran down the curving streets. 

At last the tops of the masts and the docking scaffold for the airships started to appear, looming over the roofs around them. But rather than going for the main dock the guard pointed them down an alley. He lead the way as they slunk through the shadows. This close to the ships they could hear the sailors shouting to one another.

“Hurry, just get what’s here loaded. We need to cast off before the riots get to the docks!” one voice called.

Emma shuddered at the panic in the man’s voice. What was happening?

“Our ship is just ahead. Ready?” the guard asked looking between her parents.

Emma watched as her parents eyes met, the way her father reached out to brush back a strand of her mother’s hair, the way he gave her hand a squeeze. He gave her a small smile, a sad smile, one that didn’t reach his eyes. Her mother gave him a small nod.

Her father grabbed Emma’s hand and they moved quickly across the docks hoping not to be noticed. She could read the name _Legacy_ etched in silver lettering across the stern of the massive ship closest to them. Everywhere people pushed past them, most didn’t spare them a glance. It was strange, she was so used to crowds parting reverently for them, people bowing before her mother. Another shoulder slammed into her knocking her off balance, and she fell, the cobblestones scraping her knees. She huffed, brushing the dirt off her skirts when she sensed more than saw her parents freeze beside her.

“Hold,” the guard breathed and they all watched as a group of men dressed in all black picked their way through the dockworkers occasionally stopping people as if they were looking for someone. Everyone on the docks seemed to shrink back in fear as those strange men passed.

“Who are they?” her mother whispered, the words barely audible as Emma stood from the ground. She watched as the men continued to search the crowd, tipping back hats and checking faces, opening bags and traveling chests.

The guard shook his head. “We don’t know. There seems to be some connection to the Industrialist Guild and the inventor, Gold.”

“We should have never allowed-” Her father muttered before one of the mysterious men broke off from the group heading toward them. He was more menacing the closer he got. His large stature was exaggerated by the thick black wool cloak he wore over a thick military jacket with rows of brass buttons. And in the center of his chest a large talisman of interlocking gears hung from around his neck.

“The ship,” the guard said his gaze falling on each of them in turn as though to emphasize his words. “No matter what happens, get to the ship. The ship will get you out of here.”

“Look what we have here,” the man in the dark cloak said. His cold eyes seemed to take in every stitch of the guard’s palace uniform, and slowly slid over her father and fell at last on the queen. A small sneer appearing on his sallow lips.

He moved closer pulling a strange device from beneath his coat and leveling it at them, Emma could hear gears clicking from within it. It wasn’t like the wands of the fairies she seen, filled with light magic, this device seemed to radiate a power darker than magic. It thrummed in the air, sending shivers up her spine, raising the hair on the back of her neck. She pressed herself tightly to her father’s side.

“How dare you,” the palace guard growled pulling out his own small revolver and pointing it at the man. Emma’s heart was hammering in her chest.

“Don’t come any closer,” the guard warned tightening his grip on his gun. But the man made no reply and with a heavy footfall he slowly, deliberately, took another step forward. With deadly slowness the man reached up to lower a dark mask down from his hat over his nose and mouth. It obscured his face, turning him into a monster, his breathing harsh through the thin slits in the front.

The guard fired his gun, the shot echoing loudly around them making others on the dock cry out and scatter in panic. But the masked man simply took another step toward them seeming unharmed by the bullet. He kept his own weapon trained steadily at the Queen’s heart. 

“I carry a message,” the man said his words clipped with a mechanical edge through the mask. “Your Majesty, abandon now all hope, your time is over. We are risen.”

Her father moved before Emma even knew what was happening. He shoved her mother quickly to the side just as the gun fired. It wasn’t like the ordinary bullet from the guard’s pistol. Instead it seemed to release a pulse and then a thickness hung in the air like heavy smoke, acidic, burning her eyes and throat. She choked reaching for her father’s hand but he pulled away, his fingers slipping through hers.

And all at once a strange numbness settled over her. 

There were screams around her and another explosion. Emma blinked hard trying to clear the fog, from her eyes, from her mind. She moved, not even knowing if it was forward or backward. She only wanted to get away from the noise, the numb feeling spreading through her. 

The ship, she remembered distantly. She needed to get on the ship. 

“David!” someone screamed near Emma, the sound startling her. 

And then there, a few feet away in the confusion, was her mother clinging to her father on the ground. Emma was stunned that for a moment she had forgotten about them. How could she have forgotten her family, even for a minute? 

She tried to move toward them but the ground seemed to tilt beneath her with each step and she couldn’t find her balance. The distance between them seemed to stretch, making her parents suddenly far away, unreachable. Her senses rebelled against her, nothing made sense. It was like she was trapped in a nightmare. She gripped her mother’s ring tightly hoping it would protect them.

Emma stumbled another unsteady step forward seeing red blood bloom on her father’s shirt as her mother held him. Emma could only watch helplessly as the palace guard with them was swiftly overpowered by the man in the mask. And then there was nothing standing between her parents, her family, and the masked man . Her mother looked up, meeting his eyes through the mask, staring him down with a fiery gaze.

Emma’s mind seemed only able to focus on the details of the scene before her: her mother’s hands gripped the thick fabric of her father’s coat, the soft thud as her father’s hand dropped limply from her mother’s arm, the long shadows of the masts across the dock in the moonlight, the loud click as that strange gun loaded again, the blue fabric of her mother’s shoes where they peeked out from her skirts, the palace guard’s lifeless stare from the ground, and at last the deafening blast as the gun fired again.

Emma screamed, the sound horrible, tearing from her throat. Everything within her ripped free in a blast of light and heat. She could feel her heart pounding, her skin alight as if it were glowing with some forbidden force. Magic flared from her, turning the shadows to day, bursting out and knocking the masked man back. But she couldn’t control the power and all too soon it faded, leaving her feeling empty. She collapsed, engulfed again in the strange numbness, the world around her going black, her vision fading, every tether cut and she floated within herself, lost.

The last thing she felt was hands trying to pull her up. A voice telling her she needed to run, but it didn’t sound like anyone she knew. The ship. If she could just get to the ship. Maybe everything would be okay.

She was so tired but strong arms pulled her up and dragged her, her shoes slipping on the slick stones. “Stay with me, Princess,” someone said above her.

_Princess?_ The word echoed around in her ears, but it had lost all meaning. Everything felt foreign. She couldn’t find the energy to open her eyes, she just wanted to sleep. If she could just rest everything would be alright. Someone was yelling something that almost sounded like her name, but this was such a strange dream, and nothing was making sense. Her head was pounding and she couldn’t remember why she was trying to wake up from the haze in her mind. She relaxed into the embrace of whatever was holding her, feeling weightless as she drifted.


	2. Dancing Bears

artwork by @prongsie 

~*~ 

Killian really hated the blackguards, bloody hulking bastards the lot of them. He leaned, in his best estimation of a casual pose, against the cold damp stones of some long abandoned building. Three more of those brutes moved past, their cruel eyes barely sparing him a glance. Just one small bit of luck in this luckless place.

Misthaven had suffered since the fall of the royal family and rise of the Industrialists over a decade ago, although to voice such sentiments was treason. Fear and distrust ran rampant through the streets, spreading like disease. Trust no one. Help no one. Those quickly became a mantra to anyone hoping to survive.

Killian tracked the movement of the blackguards down the sloping street. Their black uniforms a bruise against the stone walls of the city. A patrol like that only meant one thing: there had been a report of magic. It was the blackguards’ duty to maintain order. And under the rule of the Industrialists and their leader Mr. Gold, ‘order’ meant quashing any magic in favor of their brand of science.

Science, which they claimed allowed for equality and advancement that had been hindered with magic. They said their machines could be used by anyone unlike magic which could only be wielded by those born with it. And after it had been revealed that the Princess had inherited magic, the slowly growing rift between the rich and poor, the privileged and the forgotten, those with magic and those without had finally erupted.

Sure, ‘equality’ had sounded good at first, but this new science hadn’t been exactly what people had hoped for, or what had been promised. Instead, the Industrialists had created machines that only helped them to gain power. While everyone had expected machines to increase productivity or make their lives better, the industrialists had introduced devices capable of extracting memories, causing amnesia, creating mass delusions, and torture. And slowly the lives of the majority had degraded to something worse than they had ever been before. And when people had nothing they turned on each other.

Was that truly innovation? Could there be an equality when the Industrialists hunted down their opposition with the blackguards and silenced those that dared to speak out?

He flipped open the engraved pocket watch that hung from a chain on his waistcoat. Nearly noon. He glanced up and down the street once more before he melted back into the shadows of the overcast winter day and headed into the heart of the city.

~*~

Emma sighed, her hand pressing to the bodice digging into her ribs as the capital city rose up before her. She should have taken one of the steam trains and saved herself the miles of walking, but she hadn’t been able to justify the money it would have cost. Even after nearly two years of finding work in a fishing village she had only managed to save a small purse of coins.

She was traveling to the city to find passage out of the life she knew. Airships still left the city to trade with other kingdoms, it was one of the last ways that anyone escaped Misthaven. She had spent years holding on to the wayward hope that by staying in this corrupt and crumbling kingdom the family she couldn’t remember would be able to find her. She had wasted years waiting for someone to come rescue her, now it was time to take her fate into her own hands.

And yet as she moved closer the city seemed to sneer down at her. Everything loomed in stone and steel and brass all dulled and worn, blemishes on a once beautiful face. Steam and smoke rose in puffing clouds from the buildings and factories like breath exhaled into the cold air. There was almost a palpable shift in the air as she was slowly surrounded by buildings lining the streets, the city swallowing her.

Carriages rumbled by her, some pulled by hissing mechanical engines that glowed dimly of orange and green, she hadn’t seen much of the new technology in the countryside, but here in the city it seemed to be everywhere. It felt alien being surrounded so much cold steel and the clank and ratchet of chattering machines. It was so different from the rolling hills of the country. Everything here was bleak and bitter. And all around she could feel wary eyes watching her from dirty windows and beneath hats tipped low over shadowed faces.

She adjusted the hood to her dark cloak, a small barrier between her and this new place. She had heard the stories of the city. The way the people here had torn themselves apart after the royal family had been killed. The horrible details of the rumors had seemed too ghastly to be true, but here, surrounded by the evidence it seemed suddenly possible. Desperation seemed to taint every face.

She picked her way carefully down curving streets trying to make her way to where she could see an airship sinking from the sky to dock in the distance. Perhaps at the dock she could finally secure passage out of Misthaven.

With her eyes in the sky she hadn’t been paying attention to where she was walking and when she turned a corner a ruined building on the hill caught her attention. Its cracked and battered facade making her pause. She was surprised at the wave of emotion that crashed down over her as she took in what could only have been the old castle, now with large sections of the walls crumbling away. It seemed sad to see something so proud smashed.

“Keep walking, girl,” a harsh voice rasped as someone pushed past her making her stumble. She glanced around looking to see if anyone had noticed her staring at the castle. She knew they didn’t tolerate loyalists of the old royal family here. Hurrying forward she joined the flow of the people on the street, if she could just get onto that ship she could leave this place for good.

The streets became even more congested as she neared the docks. People were flocking in from all the side streets, many with their eyes trained on the airship drifting slowly toward them as mooring lines were anchored to the landing scaffold. It was an impressive sight. Emma had seen airships before, but usually flying among the clouds, high above her. Never this close. She hadn’t realized they would be so big. The metal sides groaned, the steam stacks bellowing out steam as the pressure let out allowing the ship to land.

“Heard it was carrying gold,” a voice said beside her.

“Don’t be thick,” a man grumbled quietly back. “Gold doesn’t come in on airships. Not anymore.”

The woman chuckled darkly. “S’pose that’s ‘cause we’s is always raiding them.”

Emma glanced at the pair and at all the others staring at the airship with hungry eyes. Were they all here to swarm the cargo as it was unloaded? Already people were jockeying for position close to the scaffold and near the ramps. One man licked his lips as he watched another line get secured the ship at last easing into a berth.

Emma let a few people push in front of her until she was shuffled to the edge of the crowd. She picked a spot on the fringe, tucked under an overhang of one of the buildings at the edge of the dock. There was almost a collective deep breath, a moment of absolute calm as the ship finished docking and the latches spun open on the wide cargo door. The crew eyed the crowd that had gathered as they began unloading the ship. The first three large crates were lifted with groaning cranes and pulleys from the belly of the ship to the planks of the dock without incident. The crowd simply watched. Emma thought she might have misread the situation, perhaps her habit of believing the worst in people had gotten the best of her.

Then something caught her eye. A tall, broad shouldered man to her right reached up and lowered the spectacles from his hat, a strange mask coming to rest over his face. The sight of man in the mask landed like lead in her stomach, her heart dropping as a sense of danger rushed through her. She frowned as she tried to make sense of the feeling. And an echo sounded in the back of her mind, quieter than a whisper, fainter than a thought, as if it were from a long forgotten dream: _We are risen_.

She blinked, confused at the words that flashed through her mind. The masked man turned slowly toward her, his gaze heavy on her through the dark spectacles. For a bizarre and terrifying moment she was sure he was hearing her thoughts. He stared at her his head tilting just an inch like a predator considering its prey, and it made her feel suddenly exposed. Emma shrunk back a step, panic rising in her. Less than a few hours in the city and already she had attracted some kind of danger. She watched in fear as the man took a few steps in her direction. She wondered if she should run or if that would make her look more guilty. She wasn’t even sure what she was guilty of.

But before she made any decision shouts rang out across the docks and she turned back to the docked airship.

The crowd had surged forward as the fourth crate was released from the pulleys. Knives and axes appeared from beneath thick coats and the people swarmed the crew forcing them back as the thick planks of the crates were split. People scrambled to get a hold of bags of grain, boxes of fruits and barrels of fish.

The masked man who had been moving toward her stopped and turned away from her, shoving away through the crowd. It was only then that she saw other men with masks, some kind of police force, spaced throughout the edges of the crowd all closing in on the raid in the center of the dock. When people saw the masked men they cowered away from them, some turning and running. The men parted the crowd, scattering them and as they surrounded the raiders she saw one of the masked men remove something from his belt. There were a few a loud bangs and that was when the screaming started.

Emma turned and ran away from the chaos at the docks, joining the others fleeing the terrified shouts behind them. Several times she was bumped and struck by arms and elbows. She turned down an alley tucked tightly between leaning buildings. There were abandoned palates strewn here and there, not unlike the ones that had just been unloaded from the airship. The uneven stones beneath her shoes smelled of rot, and worse, but she didn’t give it much thought. Stay out sight. That was all that mattered.

She ducked into a small alcove, no more than a small doorway. She pressed back into it, closing her eyes and trying to disappear from the sight of anyone still moving past on the street.

Slowly she let the last few minutes settle over her. The initial fear quieting into something more refined. She took stock of everything she had learned. The situation here was worse than she had expected. Poverty and unrest fueling a deadly fire. And who were the men in the masks? Some enforcement group? Was it tied to the Industrialists? Why had they seemed so familiar to her for a split second? What were they doing to the raiders? Too many questions. And still there was one thing that was glaringly obvious: the city was dangerous, and there was going to be no easy way out of it.

“You shouldn’t be here,” someone whispered beside her nearly scaring her out of her skin.

She jumped already reaching for the knife she kept in her boot, her eyes flashing open and sweeping around her for the source of the whisper.

At last she spotted what she had probably mistaken as a pile of old fabric, that was now looking back at her with bright eyes. A small child kneeling hidden amongst the debris.

“Who are you?” Emma asked not releasing her grip on her knife, but not exactly pointing it at him.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he said again.

Despite his worn cloak he didn’t have the amount of dirt and grime she would expect on a street urchin. And there was something in the fullness of his round cheeks and the warmth of his brown eyes and the few soft curls she could beneath his hood that made her relax a little.

“Do you need help?” she asked the boy glancing around again just in case she had missed anyone else in the alley. It wasn’t like her to be so careless or unobservant.

“I don’t need help,” he scoffed as if that were absurd, “this is my home.”

Emma wasn’t sure if he meant the city, or this alley, or that pile of junk he’d emerged from, but still his words struck her. She’d never had a place to call home. Not even a pile of moldering planks in a dank alley. For a moment she was acutely and absurdly jealous.

“Is there anyone with you? You shouldn’t be alone.”

He smiled as if it was silly that she would be worried about him. “I’m scouting,” he told her proudly, and she imagined his small chest puffing out beneath his big cloak.

“Scouting?” she repeated.

“The airship,” he said. “It was due to come from the Northern Kingdom today.”

He was scouting the airship? Had he planned to steal some of the cargo too?

“Didn’t you see it?” he asked waving vaguely in the direction of the docks, “It landed not half an hour ago, big huge one too.”

“No, I saw it,” she told him. “But the people on the dock, they...they rushed it and these men with masks-”

The boy went slightly pale at her words. “The blackguards,” he breathed. “That explains the screaming.”

He sighed looking down at the opening of the alley. “I’m going get in so much trouble for this.”

“Trouble from who?” she asked.

“Papa, he doesn’t like when I get close to them. He says they’re too dangerous. But I’m not scared of them. They are just bullies,” he said it all in rush and again there was that touch of pride and precociousness.

“Who are they?” she asked him realizing the wealth of easy information this boy might prove to be.

“They work for Mr. Gold and the Industrial Guild, they make sure everyone follows his rules. No magic, no stealing, no saying anything bad about him, no kings or queens, no leaving the country. He says it’s to keep us safe. But Papa says he’s an assh-” he cut off abruptly glancing at her with a shy smile, before amending, “a liar.”

“No leaving? Is there no way to leave Misthaven? The airships and trains come into the city. They have to leave from here too.”

The boy shook his head. “No one leaves. They check all the cargo, all the papers of the crew. You need permits that only the Industrialists can get, and they don’t share. Of course there are people like Killian who will fake one. But even then we can only sneak a few out.”

Emma absorbed his words quickly. “Where can I find Killian?” she asked him.

The boy blinked before looking at her with a suspicious look. “Why?”

“It’s okay,” she assured him. “I’m not here for any trouble. I just need to get out of this country.”

He nodded solemnly before answering, “Killian moves around, but he goes to the castle sometimes.”

“The one on the hill?” she asked.

He nodded again. “Yeah, I think he’s silly doing that right under the Industrialists’ noses. I mean Gold already hates Killian. But Papa says he just can’t keep away from there because it reminds him of-”

“Thank you,” she said cutting off his rambling before she paused, “I don’t know your name.”

He frowned. “No names. That’s Papa’s rule. No names with strangers.”

“But you said Killian’s name,” she pointed out.

The boy went bright red, his eyes wide.

“It’s okay, it’s okay,” Emma said quickly, “It’s okay, we’re on the same side now.”

The boy seemed only slightly placated by that.

“I have to go, but stay safe with those men out there,” Emma told him.

She wanted to offer to take him back to wherever his family was, but he just sat back down on the ground. She could feel his eyes on her as she walked the whole way out of the alley.

She moved carefully out on the streets, her hood pulled up as she walked. She found herself glancing back again and again toward the docks. After the riot she wasn’t sure what other unpleasant surprises the city might have in store for her. More than anything she didn’t want to run into any of those, what had the boy called them? Blackguards.

Her chest tightened just at the thought, remembering the one who had stared at her. Had he known she was an outsider here? That she was trying to get away from Misthaven? He had started moving toward her. What would have happened if the riot hadn’t broken out?

It was struggle to move as fast as she could without looking suspicious. She swore she could feel people watching her, but every time she looked around she was alone. Every step took her farther up the hill and soon she could make out the towers of the castle.

She wasn’t sure if she had expected patrols around the castle or some sort of wall, but there was no one and whatever had been surrounding the castle was mostly knocked down, forgotten. She made one circle to check the perimeter before she made any attempt to enter the ruin.

Under the shadow of the massive walls and towers she felt a strange calm fall over her. Her breathing came easier than it had since she had entered the city. It was almost comforting to get away from the city streets. She slowed her steps as she walked through the charred and twisted remains of trees that must have been a garden at one point. She wondered what they must have looked like in spring. If honeysuckle had twisted through the branches and leaves like they did in the countryside.

At last she found an old doorway tucked down at the base of the castle that was poorly boarded up. She’d lived on the streets enough years to know how to break into an abandoned place. With some effort she pushed through the small opening between the boards covering the doorway. One of the nails grabbed at her coat ripping a hole in the shoulder. She grunted as she edged through just barely fitting, and stumbled a step into the wide room beyond.

She coughed at the thick dust in the air, the sound echoing off the walls back at her. She blinked waiting for her eyes to adjust to the dim interior, there were hallways leading off from the entryway and large bulky pieces of abandoned furniture. Something about it pulled at her heart, seeing it all forgotten here, deemed worthless by even the looters. A skeleton of the splendor this place must have been once.

Her footsteps were muffled by the layer of ash and dust that lifted in small clouds with her every movement. The only other sound was the tapping of the pipes running along the walls and ceiling. Likely the dying remnants of the steam conduits that would have lit the palace. It must have magnificent, the light shining off the polished floors and richly paneled walls.

She moved slowly, cautiously, as if afraid she might disturb some secret hidden here. Her hand trailed absently along the wall, wondering at the ornate frames of the paintings on the walls. Some had been ripped out, only frayed canvas edges remaining, but in others she met the eyes of rulers long past. Their painted gazes seemed to weigh heavily on her making her glance away and hurry her steps farther into the palace.

The corridor she’d been following opened onto a wide hall. Sweeping, plushly carpeted staircases led down from the second floor gallery to tall room flanked by large windows and above hung rows of immense crystal chandeliers. The whisper of an old waltz floated to her as if from a memory, and she could almost imagine the musicians and the swaying of elegant gowns, the glitter of jewels under the warm glow of those chandeliers. She swallowed back a frown, it was ridiculous, she was just an orphan from the country, what did she know of the sound of an orchestra or the charms of a royal ball?

But as she slowly descended step by step it crept over her like goosebumps on her skin, a strange feeling, the tickle of a memory. Something tugging her down, and at the same time something begging her to surface, surface through a fog within her mind she hadn’t noticed until that moment. And the more she tried to understand it the more it seemed to slip away, a dream that couldn’t quite be remembered.

She cried out as a hand landed on her arm shattering the spell she was under. She swung to face her attacker, and he swore loudly as her fist connected solidly with his jaw.

“Whoa, whoa, easy, easy,” he muttered his hands coming up in surrender.

Emma took a step back, every instinct telling her to run, and yet something about him made her hesitate. There was nothing familiar about his striking features, not his dark, slightly messy hair, or the angle of his jaw, not even the surprising shade of blue of his eyes. He seemed to be just slightly older than her, and he was, she felt a small blush touch her cheeks as she thought it, rather handsome. For a moment their gazes remained locked.

“Who the hell are you?” he asked her his hand rubbing at his jaw where she had struck him.

“Who the hell are _you_?” she shot back hearing how childish it sounded as a reply.

He didn’t look like a castle guard or one of those masked men from the dock. He was dressed in a long heavy leather jacket with a tall collar that hung down to the tops of his thick leather boots. His waistcoat under the coat was made from a patterned velvet that looked expensive. She eyed the silver in the handle of his sword at his hip. But there was a glint in his eye too devilish to belong to a gentleman and she wondered what he was doing in the castle.

“People aren’t allowed in here,” he said a gloved hand landing on his belt in a posture of nonchalant authority.

“What, is this your castle?” she fired back before pointing accusingly at him. “What are you doing here?”

He smirked, not intimidated. “I find myself here from time to time,” he told her, “but I’ve never seen you here before.”

She hesitated a moment before deciding she had nothing to lose. “Well, I was actually told to meet someone here. His name is Killian. Any idea how to find him?”

He chewed on his lip gauging her carefully. “Depends on who’s asking.”

“I’m asking,” she said, “And I’m not with the Blackhearts or whatever. I just got to the city today.”

He listened to her, his eyes gleaming as though he found her amusing, but there was also something almost like pity in his gaze. It irked her.

“Killian,” a voice called from above. “Where the hell did you get off to?”

They both turned to the woman coming down the stairs. Emma’s mouth fell slightly open at the sight. She was probably the prettiest person she had seen, large green eyes rimmed by curving lashes, and wide red lips. As she walked there was something commanding and powerful about the way she carried herself. Her red cloak billowed out behind her, long legs slipping from the tall slit in her skirts, and from beneath her hood Emma could see gracefully curling brown hair.

“Ruby,” he muttered, “perfect timing as always.”

Emma turned to study him with new eyes. So this was the Killian she was looking for. She couldn’t decide if he was less or much more than she had expected.

~*~

Killian could feel the girl’s gaze on him again. He glanced over to see her calculating look. He had lived in the shadows long enough to recognize the glimmer of a secret deep within her eyes. He tried not notice her beauty, the sweep of her eyelashes, the way her light hair framed her face. There was no need to get tangled in nonsense like that, the last time had ended disastrously.

“You know there’s nothing left down here,” Ruby said reaching them. “I thought this was supposed to be a productive break-in, not another chance to moon around in an old ballroom and pretend-”

“Ruby,” Killian cut her off with an edge of steel to his tone. “We have company.”

Ruby sighed heavily as she turned to the girl beside him. Looking from her worn gray cloak to the utilitarian cut of her blouse and black skirt down to her faded leather boots. Clearly Ruby wasn’t impressed with the girl’s wardrobe choices, and one usually found scant purses under boring clothing.

“She was looking for us,” Killian said gesturing to the girl.

They both knew that looting the abandoned castle was not the only way to make money. If this girl knew about him it was likely because she needed official papers that they were only too willing to provide by way of forgery. For a price, of course. A price Killian could tell by the tilt of Ruby’s smile that was about to increase.

“Is that right?” Ruby replied.

He might have expected the girl to shrink before Ruby, but she actually straightened a little. A new set to her shoulders, the smallest lift to her chin. It was subtle and yet so beautifully defiant and Killian bit back a smirk, perhaps there was more to her than he had guessed.

“I need travel papers,” she said her eyes flicking from Ruby to him.

“Travel papers?” Ruby repeated as if they both hadn’t suspected it. But it was part of their usual process to run this script as they felt out a potential client.

Spies lurked everywhere. Just a few days ago Vlad, one of the best conmen in the business, had been publicly taken in for questioning. The Industrialists were tightening control over the borders, over everything really. It was becoming a death grip of regulation and thinly veiled corruption. He and Ruby had discussed leaving multiple times, slipping out before it was too late. But always something stopped him.

It wasn’t just that this was their home, where they had grown up, barely scraping by together. It wasn’t just that they knew every alley and stone and shadow in this city. And it wasn’t just the allure of one last great score holding them back. It was something else for him, something elusive, a wish never fully taking shape, a broken promise from years ago.

“I need to get to Glowerhaven,” the girl said pulling him from his thoughts.

“Glowerhaven?” Ruby said picking at one of her nails. “That’s not a place Misthaven regularly trades with.”

“What’s that matter?” she asked.

Ruby placed her hands on her hips. “That means it will require extra documentation.”

The girl glanced between him and Ruby again. It seemed this wasn’t going exactly as she expected.

“Listen can you do it or not? I can pay,” she said clearly getting frustrated.

“Yeah we can do it, “ Ruby replied haughtily, nothing got to her more than someone doubting her. Doubting her because she was young, because she was a woman, because she was beautiful. “It’ll cost you double after that incident on the docks today. They will increase security everywhere.”

The girl looked dismayed, but what could she do? She was trapped just like everyone else.

“We’ll need payment in full,” Ruby said.

The girl pulled a purse from her skirts clutching it tightly. She looked between the two of them again before pulling the string and pouring a few of the silvers within it onto her palm.

“It’s gonna be fifteen silver pieces,” Ruby said and Killian made sure to school his face into a neutral expression. He didn’t like to think of himself as a grifter, or a racketeer, but a price of fifteen silver was truly extortion.

“Seven,” the girl countered smartly.

“Ten.”

“Eight.”

“Done.”

The girl tipped the silver back into her purse. “But you get it once I have the papers.”

And Killian let out a chuckle at her gall. He was in danger of liking this girl. It was a rare person who could best Ruby at her own game. Ruby looked like she wasn’t nearly as impressed with the girl, but he leveled her with a look to steady her. Eight pieces of silver was more than they had this morning. It would keep them going for weeks.

“Follow us,” he said to the girl before moving up the stairs at the end of the wide chamber.

Ruby caught up to him quickly, and he could feel annoyance radiating off her. She didn’t like it when things didn’t go her way, but she would come around soon enough. Or rather as soon as she had the silver. It had been awhile since they had something good happen.

He slowed before one of the open doors on the upper gallery. Years ago it had probably been a parlor of some sort, meant to receive guests of the royal family. But now it served their purpose.

The girl followed with caution, her eyes sweeping over the room. Killian bent to pop the loose floorboard in the corner and pull out their forgery supplies. They had stashed it here ages ago when their little side business had picked up. He certainly didn’t want to be caught in possession of any of this stuff. Forgery and other illegal activity was becoming a death sentence more frequently these last few years.

He turned to find the girl slowly turning in the center of the room, taking it all in, the tall embellished ceilings, the wide circular windows now with a few holes smashed into the glass.

“It’s something isn’t it?” Ruby asked her gesturing at that opulent details of the palace.

She slowly let out a breath still looking around. “It’s like something from another world.”

Killian spread his tools out over the battered table in the room. Rolls of parchment, a few sticks of wax in the deep purple shade favored by the Industrialists. A stylus pen sat among his tools that was much better quality than the rest of the lot, a small token from a lawyer they forged documents for years ago. He took time to roll the pot of ink between his palms warming it up to melt any crystals that formed in the ink when it got this cold.

“Now we get to reinvent your past,” he announced smoothing out an old faded form from the stack with a flourish.

“There’s no need to reinvent,” the girl told him. “I don’t remember a lot of it.” She shrugged as though that was normal.

Ruby shot him a significant glance which he chose to ignore as he dipped the pen into the ink. He knew she didn’t like extra variables, and clients with unknown pasts were an invitation for any number of complications.

“Name?” he asked allowing himself a moment to look at her trying to find a name that might fit. Rose? Ava? Marybelle? Tahlia? Nothing seemed to quite suit her.

“My name’s Emma,” she told him.

His eyes snapped to hers, but she merely turned away still making her way around the room. She paused, walking slowly toward a large painting tucked in the far corner. She moved toward it with a reverence like an artist in a gallery surrounded by the works of masters.

He had never paid the painting much notice in all the times they had used this room. The only paintings left in this place were those with no value, or what would be construed as loyalist propaganda. But he watched as she moved toward it as though entranced.

Killian truly looked at the painting for the first time, trying to see what had captured her attention. From within the frame the King and Queen sat on thrones looking out at the viewer. The details were what made it a masterpiece. You could pick out the gold stitching in their clothes, and the ruby in the hilt of the King’s sword. The artist had captured the deep green of the Queen’s eyes, a green mirrored in the gaze of the young princess. The young girl alone had a smile, a smile that had once been rumored to be able to light up a room and break down even the most surly diplomat.

Killian watched Emma’s eyes take in the painting. The way she studied the curve of the girl’s nose, the shade of her hair, the way the ends curled about her shoulders. Slowly her frown softened into something almost like longing as her eyes lifted to the princess’s parents. He didn’t have to imagine the allure of the idea of having a family, a family like this. Parents, alive and beloved, it was the fantasy of any orphan.

Ruby laid her hand on his arm interrupting his thoughts. He glanced up at her to see her staring at the girl as if she had seen a ghost. Her eyes moving from Emma to the princess in the painting.

And Killian could read in her expression what she was thinking, the plan already taking shape in her mind. Part of him wanted to laugh at the absurdity.

“Emma?” Ruby said hesitantly.

Emma turned to them, raising an eyebrow in response. “I’m sorry. I’ve never seen such a beautiful painting up close. Did you ask me a question? Like I said before I don’t remember much so you can make up a new identity for me.”

Ruby was carefully taking in every facet of Emma. Killian could practically hear her mind working it out.

“Actually, there might be another way we can help each other,” Ruby said slowly.

The girl bristled a little under Ruby’s speculative gaze. “What are you talking about?”

“Your name is Emma,” Ruby said. “That was her name too.” She pointed to the painting.

Emma frowned looking at the painting again, her eyes going to the princess.

“I know her name was Emma,” she said dismissively.

Ruby didn’t seem deterred by the way she brushed off the comment.

“There are whispers that the King and Queen are alive and in hiding in Glowerhaven. It’s said they are offering a reward for anyone who brings them their daughter. They are searching for a princess named Emma. And she’d be about your age.”

Killian clenched his fist, shoving down the memories clamoring at him trying to drag him under and focused instead on the present.

“I’m an orphan not a princess,” Emma said shaking her head. “I don’t even remember my parents.”

Killian rubbed a hand over his aching wrist. Ruby had come up with some truly bad schemes in the past but this would probably take the trophy. He tried to picture it as he looked at Emma. He tried to imagine the ragged girl before him as a princess, regal and elegant. Was there enough gold in her hair to resemble the princess? Could she be taught to stand straight? What would a haughty courtier’s smirk look like on her features? His gaze found her eyes, those bright green eyes, indeed similar to those of the royal family in the painting. But would anyone believe this girl was Princess Emma? Perhaps that lost look within her eyes could be explained as the expression of a girl who spent years trying to find her family. And would the princess not be a little worse for wear after all that time in hiding? Would anyone doubt it when he and Ruby were done with her? He’d convinced people of more ridiculous things.

Ruby nudged him and he cleared his throat before backing her up. That was their way, no matter how insane things got, how deep a hole they dug themselves, they were in it together.

“We would just have to convince them,” he told Emma sounding more sure than he felt.

“Convince the King and Queen that I’m a princess? That I’m their daughter?” Emma laughed darkly. “You think they wouldn’t see through that?! Look at me!” She gestured to her old cloak and patched skirts, at the holes in her boots.

“I am looking at you,” Killian told her and a crease formed in her brow as she realized he was serious. She struggled for a moment as though trying to come up with a response.

“Your name is Emma, the resemblance is there. You don’t remember your parents, for all you know they could have been royalty. It’s not impossible,” Ruby told her.

“So then what? You’ll buy me a dress and teach me to curtsy and we try to con the King and Queen?” Emma asked bluntly.

Ruby shrugged. “More or less.”

“And then what?” Emma asked them. “We split the reward money and run before they realize the truth?”

“More or less,” Killian repeated. Emma rolled her eyes spectacularly and he grinned.

“I’m glad this is such a carefully thought out plan,” she scoffed.

Ruby just raised an eyebrow, the question clear. He watched Emma seem to weigh her options, but even if she disliked it, they were her best chance at getting out of Misthaven.

“Okay,” she said at last. “You get me across the border and I’ll learn to be a princess.”

Ruby grinned her wolfish grin that meant she loved winning. He knew she was already imagining the reward money, but for all of Emma’s resemblance to the girl in the portrait, he couldn’t help but feel the weight of just what they would be attempting and the weight of the past pressing down on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by @prongsie on tumblr. Go over to her blog to like and reblog and check out the rest of her fantastic art!!!


	3. Through a Silver Storm

The castle faded, lost behind the rooftops as Emma followed Killian and Ruby along the narrow streets. They seemed to be weaving a path known only to them, following sidewalks for a stretch only to duck down an alley, and then turn down another street, turn after turn, until Emma was completely disoriented.

All around them the city was alive, humming, and so different from the countryside she knew. It had been reborn with all the innovation of the Industrialists. Everywhere their inventions and influence could be seen. Each a cog in the machine of their control.

As they made their way away from the central district of the city the buildings and scenery changed. The wide avenues lined with trees by the castle gave way to streets lined with stores. Each with a window hawking their wares. Some with the latest fashions, beautifully embroidered fabrics and lace. Others were for smiths and butchers. And then there were some with complicated machines, gears and intricate arms all moving on their own. She had paused to watch to them for a moment. It was like nothing she had ever seen. She knew these were the stores managed by the Industrialists, all of them part of the Industrial Guild. It was so hard to believe that these stores filled with such wonders were connected to all the stories of corruption and terror.

But eventually the stores also became fewer and when they crossed a small canal they were surrounded by tall residential buildings pressed in close with barely any space between them. Clothes hung from lines strung over the curving streets. Here children in frayed clothes laughed and ran ducking around them. The air of poverty hung thickly here, but it was softened by the sense of community and routine. The scolds of mothers that could be heard, the rhythm of the broom as a withered man swept his stoop, and the smells of dozens of dinners being made in the apartments stacked on either side of them.

Both Killian and Ruby seemed to relax a little as they moved farther into the slums, their pace slowing a little. They didn’t seem to fit, their clothes too fine and too clean, their faces too unlined compared to those that looked up as they passed. Even so, the people on the streets didn’t seem surprised or unnerved by the pair that didn’t seem to belong, in fact one man dropped a nod to them as they passed. 

Emma’s feet were aching when their pace finally slowed by an unmarked door. It looked like any of the other worn and crooked doors that lined the street. She eyed it warily.

“This is us,” Killian said to her. 

Ruby turned the handle, giving the door a bit of nudge with her shoulder before it gave with a groan.

Killian gestured for Emma to follow. She hesitated just a second before carefully stepping into the room beyond. She had been expecting them to have lead her back to their home, but this seemed to be a mix of someone’s living room and a pub. There was a small rectangular table that had mugs lined up along it, and two large kegs stood beside it. The rest of the space was scattered with mismatched armchairs and stools around empty barrels flipped to act as tables.

There were only a few people in the place but they all looked up when she entered. Their eyes sweeping over the three of them before turning impassively away. 

“What are we doing here?” Emma whispered to Killian beside her. 

He looked down at her with a half smile before placing a hand at her back directing her toward the kegs. “We’re meeting a friend.”

“Friend?” she repeated glancing back over to the figures in the room. None of the wary looks shot in their direction seemed even vaguely ‘friendly.’

Killian followed her gaze and chuckled. “Not one of them, he’s much more of a scoundrel than that bunch.”

Emma tensed, the group in the corner looked somewhat, she struggled for the right word,  _unsavory_. Each of them had sharp eyes that burned with a particular danger. The kind of men she had learned over the years to give a wide berth. 

“Scoundrel?” a voice repeated behind her. “Surely you must be talking about yourself, Jones.”

Emma turned to the newcomer. He was older than she was, his face just starting to show the years and there was a touch of grey to the hair at his temples. But he seemed to fit in this place better than Killian or Ruby. His clothes made from less showy, more sturdy, practical fabrics. His brown hair was swept back, and his eyes were kind and framed with fine lines that deepened as his smile widened.

“I pride myself on being a gentleman,” the man said with a small bow, gently taking Emma’s hand and pressing a kiss to her knuckles.

Emma stood frozen looking up at him, but Killian bristled beside her. “Okay, that’s enough,” he said taking half a step between them. “You’re hardly a gentleman anymore, Robin.”

Robin dropped her hand before looking at Killian. “Closer to a gentleman than you’ve ever been,” he shot back and though his tone was playful Emma caught a glimpse of Killian’s scowl as he turned away.

“Forgive me, miss. In all this squabbling we haven’t been properly introduced. I am Robin Locksley. ”

“I’m Emma,” she said. 

His eyes flickered from her eyes to her hair and then to Killian. “Is that so?”

Killian cleared his throat. “Actually that’s why we’re here, we’ve got a job.”

Robin’s eyes scanned the room until they landed on Ruby. He smirked. “Should have known.”

As if on cue, Ruby made her way over to them. “Robin,” she greeted passing him a mug of ale.  

“Ruby,” he murmured in return. “Didn’t think I’d be seeing you again so soon.”

“I’m afraid we need you,” she told him.

Robin looked at her carefully. “Never known you to be afraid, Ruby,” he said softly.

Emma noticed that neither Killian nor Ruby commented on his remark and after a moment Robin let out a sigh.

“Fine. Come on, let’s take a seat,” he said waving them toward a table in the corner. “I’m sure I’m going to need to be sitting to listen to any half-baked idea from the two of you.”

Killian only rolled his eyes and Robin dropped a wink to Emma before taking a large sip of ale, and she struggled to untangle exactly what the nature of their relationship was.

The table Robin chose was far enough from the others that they wouldn’t be overheard. Emma slid into one of the chairs, Killian taking the one next to her.

“So what is it this time?” Robin asked looking between them. “Not another airship I hope? Did you hear about the docks today? Roland was down there, heavens knows what would have happened if he had-”

“It’s not an airship,” Ruby said cutting him off. “It’s not our usual type of job.”

Robin’s gaze drifted to Emma over the rim of his mug.

“Not their usual type of job indeed,” he said. “So how do you figure into this? I’ve never seen you before and Killian and Ruby don’t make friends easily.”

“I-” Emma faltered glancing at Killian not sure exactly what their story was supposed to be.

“We need to cross the border,” Ruby said before Emma could finish. Robin choked on his drink.

“Oh, is that all?” he asked dryly pounding himself in the chest. 

Ruby leaned forward. “We both know you can do it.”

Robin frowned. “Why not just use your fancy forged documents?” he asked nodding to Killian, “You’ve got the best bloody forger in the city, you don’t need me.”

Emma glanced at Killian a little surprised. He was the best forger in the city? How had he managed to avoid being arrested by the industrialists. 

“It’s more complicated than that,” Killian said. “And after the raid on the docks this morning the normal crossings are going to be on lockdown.”

“We need another way over the border. We need the merry men,” Ruby said. Robin seemed to go still in a moment, like a deer in the forest. 

“Now why would I endanger my own people for a half-assed job like this?” he asked her.

It was a fair question and Ruby opened and shut her mouth twice, her eyes casting around for some answer to give before they landed on Emma.  

“She’s got coin,” Ruby told him.

“Wha- wait-” Emma started but Ruby cut her off with a sharp look.

“This wouldn’t be cheap. For a few of the lads, it would take at least….” Robin trailed off as if trying to find a sum high enough.

“Twenty silver,” Killian said.

Robin’s eyebrows raised. “Is that an offer?”

“Yes.”

Robin laughed lowly, “Well then, let me see what I can do. Stay here, I’ll be in touch.” He rose from his chair and gathered up his jacket before disappearing out the back door.

As soon as Robin was gone Killian took a deep breath slumping back in his chair, rubbing at his eyes.

“Twenty silver?” Ruby hissed at him. “Where in all of hell are we going to get that?”

“Emma has it,” he replied without looking up.

Emma stiffened as Ruby turned to her. 

“What? What would make you think that?” Emma asked.

Killian looked over at her locking her in place with his gaze. “Because you offered us eight silver just for papers. Surely someone as intelligent as you’ve proved to be wouldn’t have bargained everything you had for just the papers,” he said before adding, “And you showed us your purse.”

Emma scoffed. “Oh, and you can tell how much was in it just by looking at it?”

Killian shrugged. “I’m a criminal, darling.”

Emma scowled. In that moment she hated his knowing smirk, hated all of it, but most of all she hated that he was right.

“How long is Robin going to be?” Emma asked impatiently.

Killian shut his eyes again and made no indication he had heard her though his hand seemed to drift to the pocket watch tucked into his waistcoat. His fingers lingered over the lump in his pocket as if he longed to hold it. She didn’t know what was stopping him. Perhaps it wasn’t even a conscious thought, simply a force of habit, a gesture he didn’t even realize he was making.

“Could be awhile,” Ruby said, her fingers absently pulling at one of the curls in her hair.

“What are we supposed to do while we wait?” Emma asked.

Ruby fixed her a unreadable expression before a smirk pulled slowly at her lips. “Well, I never like to waste an opportunity,” she said cryptically as she stood up and smoothed her skirts like a parrot preening its feathers.

Emma watched a little dumbfounded as she floated off making her way over to the other occupied tables. She watched as Ruby leaned over in a flirtatious way and started talking to the men there. It was only a minute before she was slipping into an empty chair at their table with a laugh, settling her chin on her hand as she gave a small flutter to her eyelashes.

Emma turned to Killian. “Is she…?”

“Yes,” he said his eyes still closed.

“Does she-”

“She does whatever she wants,” he said. He didn’t seem at all concerned.

“I thought you two were… together,” Emma said a little awkwardly.

That made him look over at her curiously. “Ruby and I?” he asked and then chuckled. “No, not like that.”

Emma glanced back at Ruby across the room and watched her chat with the men around the table.

“That’s one of her favorite ways to get information,” Killian told her. “A few of those men work on the docks, they’ll have information on the riots this afternoon.”

Emma turned back to him. “Those riots, how often do they happen?”

“It’s happening more frequently now,” he said. “It’s going to make this whole thing more of a nightmare.”

“Those people, they were only taking food and supplies,” she said.

He perked up, straightening in his chair. “You saw it. You were at the docks?” 

She pursed her lips realizing her mistake. Stupid. She shouldn’t have said that.

He pinned her in place with his gaze. “You knew my name,” he said piecing it together. “In the castle.”

She didn’t say anything.

“Who told you where to find me?” his voice was cold steel.

“Killian, I-” she stammered.

He leaned forward. “Who sent you? Who are you working for?”

“It was a boy, just a boy. I didn’t... “ she said the words falling over each other. 

The accusation in his tone and expression making her desperate to reassure him. “He told me where to find you.”

“What boy?” he demanded.

“I don’t know his name. He was about ten, curly brown hair, talkative.”

Killian seemed to relax a little. “Roland,” he muttered casting his eyes to the ceiling. 

“You know him? Who is he?” Emma asked.

Killian gave a long-suffering sigh as he said, “He’s Robin’s son, of course.”

Emma bit back a smile, of course. Now she could almost see the resemblance, in looks and character. “He was pretty fond of you,” she told him.

Killian glanced at her before a small smirk pulled at his lips at the mention of the boy. And for a moment he had a look of genuine affection before he quickly hid it behind his mug as took a long drink.

“You seem close with Robin,” Emma observed.

“We’ve worked together in the past.”

“For some scheme or another I’m sure,” she said.

Killian seemed bemused by her response. “If you had such an aversion to criminals then you shouldn’t have searched them out.”

Emma was about to shoot back that she hadn’t searched him out, but she had. In fact, she had been so desperate to find him she had broken into an old castle. And again she hated him for being right. She had a feeling it was something he made a habit of,

“Well it was seemed like my only choices were criminals or Industrialists. And it didn’t seem like the blackguards would have taken my money,” she said.

“The Industrialists would gladly take your money, love, but you wouldn’t get much in return.” Killian rubbed at his left wrist as though the hand under the glove he wore was bothering him.

Emma caught the motion. “Are you hurt?” she asked.

His hand immediately dropped from his wrist as though he hadn’t realized he had been touching it. He glanced at her quickly before giving a half shrug. “It’s nothing,” he said offhandedly. “Just an old wound.”

"Doesn’t seem like nothing,” she said.

He seemed to sense she wasn’t going to let it go. Emma watched as he pulled on the fingertips of the glove easing it off revealing not skin and flesh but an intricate metal mechanical hand. Each finger a complicated working of gears and working joints. He clenched and straightened them as if to show her. She stared. It was a miracle, responding to his thoughts and commands as if it were bone and muscle. 

“What happened?” she breathed.

He glanced up at the pity in her voice. He pulled the glove back on carefully. “Had a bit of a run in with the blackguards years ago,” he said.

Emma stared, she tried to imagine how something described as ‘a bit of a run in’ would result in the loss of his hand. She remembered the people at the dock, the way they fled from the blackguards, the screams, she was beginning to understand all the fear they seemed to inspire.

She struggled for something to say. But she was spared from having to make any response by a sudden thud as a man bumped into their table as he passed. All the mugs danced and clattered on the surface, her hands leaping out to keep them from falling.

“Careful,” Killian said the words almost a growl as he half rose from his chair, his hands steadying the table.

The man gave them barely a glance before continuing on his way and out the door. Emma wiped up the drops of spilled ale scattered across the tabletop. Killian slowly sank back into his seat not paying any mind to the mess on the table.

Emma glanced over to ask him for help when she noticed him worrying a small piece of paper between his fingers. She was sure it hadn’t been there a minute ago.

“Wait,” she whispered catching on, “did he pass that to you?”

Killian opened his hand and passed the slip paper to her. Emma unrolled it and read the hurried handwriting.

_Whispering Tree. Midnight._

“What’s it mean?” she asked him, but he shook his head.

“Not here.”

Emma glanced around the dim room. It was that contradiction again. The criminal dressed like a gentleman. The house that wasn’t a house but a tavern. A place to meet a friend and a room of possible enemies. Like everyone in the city he seemed to be always wary, even of those most like him. Maybe especially wary of those most like him.

Killian stood, catching Ruby’s eye across the room. Emma quickly gathered her things and followed him out the door into the winter air on the street. There were small snowflakes falling lazily in the air and collecting along the edges of the cobblestones. She pulled her cloak closer around her.

“So what does it mean? The whispering tree? Is that a place? Another tavern?” she asked as Ruby joined them outside.

Ruby caught Killian’s eye giving him a small nod which he returned. Emma didn’t know what it meant, a signal? A greeting? It was so natural to them and so foreign to her, it made her feel suddenly alone.

“The whispering tree,” Ruby said in answer to her question, “is in the woods west of the city. It’s said to have grown from the body of a powerful wizard. People claim it whispers to those who are worthy, those who have magic.”

“People just hear the wind moving through the branches,” Killian said dismissively.

Ruby cast a glance at him before shaking her head. “Some people still believe in the power of magic and the old ways,” she said.

Killian waved her off. “Some people will believe in anything to ignore the terrible world around them.”

“Don’t mind him, he’s just grumpy” she said to Emma before turning to Killian. “What time is the meeting?”

“Midnight.”

Ruby beamed. “Perfect that leaves plenty of time for shopping. We’ll need a few things for our trip. And Emma needs a coat, she can’t go trekking across the country in that.”

Emma glanced down at herself in surprise. Sure, she knew her clothes weren’t luxurious or grand, they certainly weren’t as nice as Ruby’s, but they were fine for her.

“Actually, I did travel across the country in this,” Emma muttered.

Ruby raised an eyebrow looking her over. “Yeah, I can tell,” she said. “But I don’t think it’s going to survive another such journey.”

“Ruby,” Killian warned. “You know the rules. We don’t want to attract attention. Nothing suspicious.”

“We won’t be suspicious,” Ruby said. “You worry too much.”

“We’ve already promised most of our money to Robin,” he reminded her.

“I know,” Ruby said. “I won’t spend much.”

Killian didn’t seem like he believed her, but all he said was, “Don’t be late.”

He looked between the two of them his eyes lingering on Emma. She thought he might say something more but Ruby had already looped her arm through Emma’s and was pulling her down the street. She glanced back to see Killian looking after them.

“Really, Ruby, it’s fine, I don’t need a new coat.”

“Please,” Ruby scoffed. “Don’t argue, you won’t win.”

It turned out shopping did not mean in the shops on the avenues she had seen earlier. Instead they went to a warehouse in what seemed to be a part of the city dedicated manufacturing. 

Ruby had opened the dingy door and winked at the guard just inside handing him a few bronze coins. He didn’t seem at all alarmed as she walked by and began perusing the shelves and racks of clothes. Emma followed a little more cautiously.

“This is shopping?” Emma asked Ruby.

Ruby looked thunderstruck, pity in her eyes. “Have you really never been shopping?” she asked in a quiet tone like she was afraid to know the answer.

Emma scowled. “Of course I’ve been shopping,” she said. 

Ruby seemed to relax but still her eyes drifted over her clothes as if it was somehow sadder to know that Emma had paid for them.

“This,” Emma continued gesturing around, “this seems more like stealing.”

Ruby shrugged stuffing something from the shelves into her bag. “I paid the man at the door. Money exchanged for goods. Is that not the definition of shopping?”

She continued to move down the row picking up a few pairs of mittens and shoving them into her bag.

Emma figured ‘shopping’ wouldn’t be the only thing for which they had different definitions. She wondered how many others would come to light during their time together. Ruby picked up an intricately embroidered handbag inspecting it carefully before placing it back on the shelf. Emma certainly had found interesting companions.

“Have you not found anything you like?” Ruby asked as she packed a thick shawl into her bag.

Emma glanced around trying to spot something among the racks that resembled a cloak. In the end she found a new skirt and a thick brushed wool cloak in a charcoal gray that was both warm and soft. She had looked at a row of boots, running her hands over the smooth leather and thick soles, but she decided it probably wasn’t smart to try to break in a new pair of boots on a long trip. Her worn pair would have to make it across the border, perhaps when they got to Glowerhaven they would be able to find something new for her.

Emma had thought she was making quick work as she moved through the warehouse but when Ruby found her she had only a small pile of fabric in her hands. Ruby’s own bag was bursting with things.

“Is that all you need?” she asked eyeing the small stack of clothes Emma had doubtfully.

Emma nodded. “I think so.”

Ruby pursed her lips for a moment before shrugging. “Okay, well I got you some things anyway so we should be okay. Let’s go.”

The guard did not even glance up as they walked out with armfuls of goods.

They met up with Killian after dark. He had his own large bag slung over his shoulders. Emma wondered what things he had gathered. Was it practical, like all the scarves and gloves Ruby had picked, or was it more sentimental? She could tell he liked to stay hidden behind his high walls, but already she had seen glimpses of the man underneath. The way he chose to stay in a castle that was a touchstone to a way of life now gone, the way he still worried at the hand he had lost, and she was willing to bet that his pocket watch had some significance to him too. It was all small clues into his mystery. She had always been good at seeing lies, but still it was the truth he seemed almost desperate to hide that made her nervous.

“Ready?” He asked them.

Emma wasn’t sure she would ever be ready. Dreaming about one day leaving Misthaven and actually setting out on a path to do just that seemed very different all of a sudden.

Ruby nodded beside her and that seemed to be all Killian was waiting for. He turned and led the way toward the edge of the city.

They made their way west down smaller roads until the city gave way to forest. The trees here were different from those she had known in the rolling hills of the southern countryside. Here the trees grew from snarled trunks that stretched into long tangling branches. It obscured her view of everything around them. Without the small path she was sure they would have gotten lost.

“Do you come out to the woods often?” Emma asked softly, afraid to disrupt the eerie calm around them.

“No,” Killian said his eyes moving warily between the trees.

Ruby snickered. “He’s afraid of the woods.”

Killian straightened a little but he didn’t argue or stop his careful watch of the trees.

As Emma had traveled north to the city she had watched the moon fill a little more each night until just last night it had been full, but this deep in the forest she could only catch glimpses of it. And what little light filtered through the thick canopy created strange and shifting shadows that made her jump several times.

At last the path led them to a small clearing. She breathed a sigh of relief, glad to be out from under the trees even just for a little while. As she got closer Emma saw there was actually a large tree in the center of the clearing. It looked old, older than the others in the forest. The trunk was covered in twisted knots and the branches bent and hung at odd angles, some had even broken and fallen on the ground.

“Is that it?” Emma asked. “The whispering tree?” It wasn’t exactly what she had been expecting.

Killian nodded. “Yeah, that’s it.” He looked slightly nervous.

“Where’s Robin?” she asked scanning the clearing. 

Killian pulled the pocket watch out from his vest, flipping it open. He tilted it to read it in the moonlight. “It’s not quite midnight. We’re early.”

Emma walked slowly around the clearing as they waited. She found herself straying closer and closer to the ancient tree. Up close it wasn’t quite so menacing. Just another tree in any other forest. She repeated that in her mind as she reached out to touch the rough bark on the trunk.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Ruby called from behind her.

Emma paused but didn’t pull away. It was just a tree and she hardly believed in any local superstition. After too many years of broken hopes and hardships, there wasn’t much Emma believed in anymore.

She certainly didn’t believe in magic. Sure, she had heard the stories, and once she had even seen a fortune teller at a carnival reading people’s futures. But it was all tricks meant to take advantage of gullible people. There was no real magic, people made their own luck, everyone decided their own fate.

She wondered if meeting Killian, Ruby, and Robin was fate. When they made it across the border she wouldn’t be coming back. Everything she had known her whole life, all of it would be gone. She would be a refugee, an outsider everywhere they went. The finality had struck her a few times already, but with each step her anxiety grew. She closed her eyes taking a deep breath before reaching out, her fingertips pressing into the tree. An old strength beneath its ancient bark.

At first she didn’t even notice it, or maybe she thought it was just the wind through the trees. A soft sound around her. But then she realized there was no breeze, the air around her perfectly still. And still she could hear a buzzing. No, it was more like she could sense it, feel it deep within her. A hum, a murmur. A small whisper that was growing louder.

She jerked away from the tree stumbling back a few steps. She swung around expecting to see Killian or Ruby there playing a trick on her, but they were yards away.

“Did you hear that?” she called to them.

They both turned to look at her. Killian’s eyes swept over the trees at the boundary of the clearing. Emma realized they thought she meant she heard someone coming.

“No, the humming,” she said. 

Ruby shook her head. “It’s been quiet.” 

Emma frowned but tried to shake it off, it was just a legend, and why would she have been able to hear anything anyway? 

“There you are,” Robin called out from the trees. “Should have known you’d be early.”

Emma squinted into the darkness in the direction of his voice. She was glad for the interruption, she didn’t want to dwell on the humming from the tree. Robin emerged from a different path than they had taken, and he wasn’t alone. A group of four other men followed him out into the clearing each of them leading two horses.

Robin shook Killian’s hand and gave Ruby a small kiss on the cheek before he turned to her. “Pleasure to see you again, Miss Emma.”

She gave him a smile in return. The noise and bustle of more people and horses was comforting and it filled the clearing, drowning out any other sounds that she might have heard.

“Horses?” she asked looking at the animals. The forest hardly seemed a good place for even the most sure-footed horse.

Robin smirked. “We’ve got a day to get to the border, and this is our best option.”

“A day?” Ruby asked.

Robin nodded. “There’s a train leaving. It’s stopping in Steveston and then it will cross the border toward Glowerhaven. It’s the last train for the month.”

Emma frowned. “What about taking an airship?” she asked. The others turned to her, a range of expressions on their faces.

“Airships aren’t an option,” Robin said. “The blackguards have already seized all docked airships and halted any further air trade. It seems Gold is really cracking down on the raids this time. The roads through the mountains are being watched, none of our people have returned from the mountains for two months now. The train is our only option, and the train tomorrow is the only train.”

Killian ran a hand over his face. “Bloody hell.”

“What you don’t like trains?” Robin asked.

Killian frowned. “No, I don’t like poorly thought out plans.”

Robin grinned. “You get what you pay for, mate.”

Emma still couldn’t shake the uneasiness she felt. This wasn’t going as she had imagined it. Each new part of the plan left her feeling more out of step, vulnerable, and disoriented.

“Aren’t you worried about the horses in the woods?” she asked. “There has to be a better way. Maybe one of those mechanical carriages?”

She thought of the carriages she had seen on the streets. With the forest pressing in around them being safely seated in one of those seemed like an attractive option.

Ruby, who had already been stroking one of the bay mares answered. “The industrialists can track any of their own technology.”

Emma frowned. In all she had heard about the Industrialists she had never heard that. Maybe it was a secret they didn’t tell the public. She wondered how much of their control she had been ignorant of.

“The industrialists used their power to force out anyone not in their guild,” Robin explained noticing her expression. “They shut down any manufacturing they didn’t control. It was a way to manipulate prices and profits, and power.”

“And now all technology has been made by them,” Emma concluded solemnly.

Robin nodded. “And so now they can track it and use it to spy on people.”

“That isn’t fair,” she said.

“It isn’t supposed to be fair, it’s meant to make it easier to control people,” Killian said.

“Why didn’t anyone stop them?” Emma asked frustrated that everyone just allowed anyone like that to seize power.

Ruby shook her head. “The Royals tried, but by the time anyone realized what was going on, well, you know how that ended.”

Emma clenched her teeth. Shouldn’t the royal family have had advisers, experts, someone to warn them? Perhaps they had, or maybe they had been in on it. She wondered if corruption had been as widespread then as it was now. Maybe the perfect, idyllic vision she had always had of the way her country used to be was just a fantasy.

“In any case, from here we have to be invisible to them. The blackguards are ruthless so you better hope to hell we don’t get a patrol of them following us,” Robin said adjusting the reins on his horse. “Since they can’t track horses, it’s our best chance they won’t see us coming.”

Emma glanced over to Killian. “What about your hand, or the pocket watch? Can they track those?”

Killian looked a little surprised. “They can’t track my hand,” he said the mechanical fingers clinking as he adjusted a strap, but he didn’t elaborate further.

“And the watch?” she asked.

He met her gaze for a moment before answering. “The watch wasn’t made by them, it belonged to my brother.”

She filed away that small piece of information about him. Slowly he extended the reins of one the horses to her, a truce.

She gave him a weak smile in return. The horse was a large black gelding. He was beautiful, with a wide face and deep brown eyes. He leaned into the hand she extended. She rubbed her hand down over his neck.

It took a few minutes for everyone to get ready and mounted. Robin took up the lead heading deeper into the woods. Emma looked one more time at the whispering tree in the clearing before giving her horse a nudge and starting off after the others.

The first mile or two was stressful as she worked to get her balance and anticipate any changes in his gait. Luckily her horse seemed to be sure-footed and better at seeing in the dark than she was. She decided to trust him to navigate.

Their group rode for several hours, the merry men taking shifts leading the way and covering the rear. She almost didn’t notice when they came to a stop.

“That’s the way to Tower Falls,” the man at the front called pointing up a path branching off from theirs. “I say we camp here tonight, we don’t want to enter fairy territory until daylight.”

Emma turned to look back at Robin who urged his horse up to the front. “Will’s right,” Robin said looking at Killian who was scowling at Will. “We’ll stop here. Everyone get some rest for a few hours.”

Killian seemed hesitant, pulling Robin aside to speak with him. His words were too low for Emma to hear but his tone was rushed and he was gesturing up the path. Robin laid a hand on his arm saying something that must have placated him because Killian didn’t protest further. Emma found herself unconsciously taking her cues from Killian, if he had decided to part with the Merry Men or ride off into the night she realized she would have followed. Luckily for her, he turned to unload his pack from his horse instead.

Emma rubbed her hands together, her finger stiff from the cold air. There was no point wishing for an inn, she hadn’t expected one, typically fugitives escaping in secret across closed borders didn’t have elaborate accommodations. But no amount of rational thinking could make her excited for a night out in the open in the middle of an enchanted forest with the temperature dropping and a storm coming if the clouds blocking out the stars were any indication. Already snowflakes were starting to float down around them.The night was going to be neither comfortable nor restful.

A few of the Merry Men whose names she didn’t know started a small fire for them to gather around. But no matter how many logs they added to the flames or how close she moved, it did nothing to take any of the chill from the air.

“You all settled in?” Robin asked as she spread out one of her blankets on the ground and wrapped another snugly around herself.

Emma nodded. “I suppose,” she said. “I’m a little afraid I’m going to freeze if I try to sleep.”

“We have a few tricks to prevent that.” He reached out to grab a mug sitting on the edge of the fire that she hadn’t even noticed. He passed it to her.

She gave him a nod of thanks as she wrapped her fingers around the mug to warm her aching fingers. “What is it?” she asked him eyeing the liquid inside.

“It’s tea,” he told her.

She took a sip savoring the warmth and then swallowed with a cough, her throat burning, and not just from the temperature.

“There’s a little whiskey in it as well,” Robin told her with a smirk.

She coughed again. “Thanks for the warning,” she grumbled but he seemed unashamed as he grabbed a mug for himself from where it was warming.

“You didn’t seem like a girl who couldn’t handle liquor,” he said.

Her brows pulled down. “What kind of a girl do I seem like?” she asked him

He took a hearty gulp, clearly not minding the alcohol. “You remind me of someone I met long ago,” he said. “Back when I was a country lord.”

“A lord?” Emma asked in surprise.

“Seems a hundred years ago. I used to spend my days hunting and hosting dignitaries. Now I can barely keep a roof over my own head or protect my family.”

The word family jarred her, an old wound of her own. Robin seemed to notice the small flinch.

“I can’t remember my family. I’m leaving Misthaven in the hopes of finding them,” she said. She couldn’t tell him everything but it was the short and simple version of the truth, and she had learned over the years that the short and simple truth was the easiest lie.

Robin gave a solemn nod. “A noble endeavor,” he said. “But that doesn’t explain how you managed to get Killian and Ruby to follow you.”

Emma shook her head. “No, they’re leading me.”

“Are they?” Robin asked.

Emma looked across the fire at where Killian and Ruby were sitting. They seemed to be bickering over mugs of tea.

“It’s a funny thing,” Robin said, “I’ve never seen them take an interest in anyone like this before. It seems there is something special about you. It seems we all sense it.”

Emma glanced over at him. He was watching her steadily, in a knowing way. It was as if he could simply look at her and see the truth. It was a less intrusive feeling than the way Killian looked at her and seemed to know her thoughts, her past, her secrets, but still it set her nerves on edge.

“There’s nothing special about me,” she said.

He pursed his lips and gave a small shake of his head. “Your name is Emma. You’re close in age so you must have been named after the Princess. Someone clearly thought you were special.”

Emma nearly dropped the mug of tea. His words, his mention of the Princess hitting a little too close to the mark.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with the Princess,” she said but there was a small quaver in her voice. “I don’t have anything to do with the Princess. That’s not why they’re leaving.”

“Really?” he asked. “Because I have known Killian for years, I know how he thinks. You have similar features to the Princess. And I’ve heard rumors of the King and Queen and a reward for quite an outrageous amount of money which means Ruby would be interested. It’s simple arithmetic after that.”

Emma opened her mouth but he held up a hand stopping her.

“Your secret is safe with me, lass,” he said and she believed him. No hint of dishonesty in his eyes.

“So you think it’s true?” she asked him quietly. “You think the King and Queen might have escaped all those years ago and they’re living safely in Glowerhaven?”

If Robin could get people across the border and out of Misthaven then it stood to reason that things, information, from abroad had made its way back through him.

Robin seemed to think over the question before shrugging. “I suppose it’s a nice thought. There was more than enough murder during the revolt. There are people who think the royals deserved to die more than many who did. But really, what I’ve learned from that dark time was that no amount of killing made anything better so why wish it on anyone.”

“Do you blame the royals for what happened with the Industrialists?” Emma asked him.

Robin blew out a breath and shook his head. “Hate burns very hot and it is very hard to control. What was unleashed was a long time in the making, and maybe the royals should have done more to prevent the revolt, but the Industrialists only harnessed a rage in the people that was already festering. In the end I think we only have ourselves to blame.”

Growing up in the aftermath of the revolt, alone and with no memories she had seen the hate Robin was talking about. Seen it and never fully understood it.

Her eyes landed on Will, one of the Merry Men, the one who had insisted they make camp. He was absently fiddling with a ring on his finger but she had the distinct sense that he had just been watching her, even listening to their conversation.

“Get some rest, Emma,” Robin said patting her arm. “We’ll reach the border tomorrow, and we’re going to need our wits then.”

“Goodnight,” she said curling up and pulling her hood up over her head.

~*~

Ruby woke with a start, startled from sleep by a dream she couldn’t remember. She rubbed a hand over her eyes and down her cheek trying to gather herself. It was morning, the eastern sky gray with the earliest light. She looked around the group circling the fire that had burned down to embers.

One of Robin’s men was keeping watch just beyond where a few were still asleep. The snow was falling heavier now, piling up around them. There was a hiss from the fire as flakes landed on the glowing logs.

She found her gaze lingering on Emma, their new companion. It was a little strange to have someone new around. For so long it had been Killian and her, sometimes they worked with others like Robin and his men, but in the end it was always Killian and her. And now there was Emma. And now they were leaving Misthaven.

It was a lot to take in so quickly. She would have thought it would have taken a force of nature to move Killian from Misthaven, it turned out it only took the right girl and the right plan. Then again Emma had proven herself to be something of a force of nature.

They had only met the day before and still Ruby could tell Emma was smart and shrewd and cunning. And more than that she was kind and courageous. But she was also alone, wary, slow to trust, and full of secrets. Emma was a dangerous mystery, but she was also Ruby’s opportunity to start a new life.

The wind picked up through the trees stirring the snowflakes in swirls around her and a few hundred yards away a flock of birds startled and took flight. Ruby straightened and turned in that direction but it was hard to see anything through the thick trees.

Robin stood and gestured to his men, each of them coming to attention and spreading out into the trees. She watched them disappear into the shadows some pulling out pistols and daggers. Robin met her eyes before stamping out the fire and kicked dirt and snow over the ashes. Ruby started to push things into her bag figuring if the fire was out they wouldn’t be staying in place long no matter what had frightened the birds.

Killian moved across the circle to Emma laying a hand gently on her shoulder to wake her. She stirred beneath him as he spoke softly to her.

“What’s happening?” she heard Emma ask him.

“There’s something out there,” he told her helping her to sit. “With any luck it’s just a deer or some kind of animal.”

Emma frowned. “What else would it be?” she whispered.

“In these woods,” he said glancing at the trees around them, “could be fairies, or worse.”

Ruby clutched her bag closer. Fairies were crafty, devious creatures known for tricking people down dangerous paths or trapping them in hollow trees and starlit ponds. Over the years they had been driven deep into the forest and the dark places had turned them vicious.

One of the Merry Men burst from the trees onto the path hurrying toward them. “Blackguard patrol, headed this way,” he said between panting breaths.

Robin turned to them and opened his mouth but before he could speak a steam whistle sounded in the distance. Ruby turned toward the sound.

“The train,” she said.

“Go,” Robin said pointing into the trees. “Go, we’ll slow them down.”

“Robin, if the blackguards are tracking us-” Killian said quickly.

“We don’t have time to discuss this,” Robin said cutting him off. “We’ll stay here and pretend to be a hunting party. We can keep them distracted and give you time.”

Killian shook his head. “No, come with us. You’re on the lists, Robin, they won’t be lenient.”

Robin chuckled. “I’ve been on their lists for years and I’m still here. Not all of us need fancy forged documents to get someone to believe our stories,” he said.

“Robin,” Ruby implored him. “Please, come with us.”

“Come with you where?” he asked her. “My boy is here, I’m not leaving him.”

He passed a pistol to Killian and shook his hand. “Good luck, mate.”

“Stay safe,” Killian said tucking the pistol into his belt.

Robin gave Ruby a quick hug and gripped Emma’s hand pressing a small kiss to her knuckles. “Do me a favor and make that bloody train,” he said.

Together the three of them slipped between the trees and off the path where the Merry Men were arranging knapsacks and stringing bows and arrows to hold up their guise of a hunting party. Robin was kicking at the snow where they had been to hide their tracks and cover their escape.

“Come on,” Killian said pushing a path through the snow piled in the underbrush.

The whistle blew again still a ways off, the sound echoing in the crisp air. Ruby quickened her stride, her bag thudding against her back with each step throwing her off balance. She wondered how far they were from the tracks.

There was shouting from behind them, barely audible from the distance. A gunshot rang out and Killian skidded to a stop looking back the way they had come. Ruby grabbed his arm pulling at him.

“We have to go, Killian,” she said as she dragged him a step.

He pulled out of her grip. “Robin,” he said his eyes meeting her, pleading.

She shook her head hating the words even as she said them. “We can’t help them now. They would kill us too.”

The train horn sounded through the trees louder now. Ruby could now make out the rhythmic churning of the engine and the clacking of the wheels over the ties and rails.

Ruby glanced from the direction of the train to Killian. She could read the indecision in his eyes, the guilt at abandoning their friend. But with each second the train was rumbling closer, their window was closing.

Another gunshot rang out and Ruby paused. This one was different. It seemed closer. She turned in time to see something move in the woods. The next second the tree trunk beside her exploded as a bullet struck it sending bark and splinters and snow everywhere.

Ruby screamed throwing an arm over her head as she ducked. Then Killian’s arms were grabbing her and pulling her behind a large tree beside him.

Another few shots whizzed by them ricocheting off rocks and trees.

“We need to get on that damn train,” she said.

Killian pulled out the pistol Robin had given him and cocked the hammer. He turned to her. “Go, Ruby, take Emma. I’ll cover you.”

Ruby nodded tightening the strap of her bag before spotting Emma hiding behind another tree a few feet away. She pointed to Emma and then toward the noise of the train.

“Go,” Killian said giving her push.

Ruby hurtled from their cover and wove her way through the trees. She could hear shots hitting the trees around her. How could the blackguards have found them so fast? Had they not stopped to investigate Robin and the others? Had they not stopped for an explanation, simply eliminating anyone they found? Ruby pushed her legs to run a little faster pushing through the drifting snow.

They burst from the forest beside the train tracks just as the engine roared by. Ruby turned and sprinted along the side of the train watching the engine, coal car, and the first few cars slip past her as each of them outpaced her. Emma was a few steps ahead of her and Ruby watched as she reached out and gripped one of the handles of an unmarked train car. She pulled herself up wedging her feet into the rungs of the ladder beside the wide door and used her legs as leverage to inch the door open and swing inside.

“Come on, Ruby,” Emma called holding her hand out as Ruby reached for her, their fingers just brushing.

Ruby let out a yell as a bullet grazed her side, her skin burning. The pain made her stumble and lose a few steps. Emma’s hand pulled away and she ducked back into the train car. For a moment Ruby was afraid she was going to leave them, hide in the safety of the steel car and leave her and Killian to their fate. The train would take her across the border, and that was all Emma had wanted anyway.

But Emma reappeared a second later with a small six chambered revolver that must have been stashed in her things and pointed it over Ruby’s shoulder a hard look in her eye as she aimed.

Ruby sprinted the last few steps and grabbed the rung of the ladder just as Emma fired, the blast making her ears ring. Her side ached as she pulled herself up and into the train car beside Emma. She panted digging a finger into the torn fabric of her bodice where the bullet had torn it. She searched for blood or a gash but there was nothing but tender skin. A near miss.

Killian sprinted from the trees a moment later heading toward their car. He let Emma provide cover fire with her revolver as he concentrated on getting on board. Emma, it turned out, was a deadly shot. She knelt with the gun braced in her hands and fired expert shots at the blackguards who broke from the cover of the trees. Ruby wondered what sort of life she had lived in the country that had necessitated sharp shooting.

Killian was nearly there, breathing heavily and reaching out his hand for the ladder when one last blackguard appeared from the forest behind them. He lifted his gun aiming it right at Killian. Emma noticed him from her position and leveled her barrel at him lining up her shot before she squeezed the trigger. The gun only clicked lamely, she swore realizing too late it was empty.

“Emma,” Killian called as he gripped the ladder with his left hand and tossed up his own pistol which she caught as it arched in the air.

Killian pulled himself up toward the door when a shot rang out from the trees. Emma aimed firing back and the blackguard fell.

Ruby saw Killian’s hand slip on the rungs, his body slamming awkwardly against the metal side, his balance off. Her hand shot out to catch him and help him into the car. As soon as he was inside she slammed the wide door shut.

Ruby took a deep breath as the gunshots stopped. They had made it. They were safe. They were leaving Misthaven.


	4. Things I Almost Remember

Killian’s shoulder throbbed as he slumped back against the train car door. He slid down against cold steel walls to the floor. The wheels bumped rhythmically along the tracks sending shudders up through the car into his bones. He grit his teeth.  _Gods above_. It felt like something was stabbing him in his shoulder again and again with each vibration. He reached back with his good hand and felt blood, warm and slick, soaking into his jacket. Damn.

He glanced at the others, Ruby was chattering nervously, fussing over Emma. He could see that she was shaken up but unharmed. He tried not to overanalyze the relief that brought him, just as he wasn’t going to think about how his first thought when he’d heard the gunshots had been of Emma. Not Ruby, not Robin and the others, not even himself.

“Well, we don’t have to worry about the bags we left behind,” Ruby was saying. “We ought to be able to find whatever we need here.”

Killian took in the crates and stacks of trunks packed around them. They had ended up in the baggage car. His first choice probably would have been the dining car, but this was admittedly more inconspicuous.

“Do you think Robin and the Merry Men are okay?” Emma asked. Ruby frowned glancing at him briefly before answering.

“They’ll be okay, they’ve dealt with that kind of thing before,” she said but Killian could hear the uncertainty in her voice.

They had known those men for years. The Merry Men were likely the single largest resistance group in Misthaven. Without the goods they smuggled in many of the people would never have survived the harsh winters. If they were taken down…. Killian didn’t want to think about what it would mean for those left behind.

So much of his country was broken and suffering. It made it difficult to sit back and let it fade away behind him lost down miles of track. They had made it out and now Misthaven was barricaded behind heavily guarded borders. He would probably never see it again. Despite all the misery it had brought him, in a way it would always be his home.

He rolled his shoulder, the pull on the muscles made his wound come to life with a burning rage. He sucked in a small breath trying not to cry out, trying not to alarm the other two.

“Killian?” a voice said. “Are you alright?”

He looked up to see Emma kneeling down in front of him. It startled him. He had been expecting to see Ruby.

“It’s my shoulder,” he said gesturing vaguely. Emma frowned.

All the gunshots, it would have been a miracle if they had all gotten out unscathed. He leaned forward a little, turning just enough for her to see the stain spreading over his back.

“It just needs to be cleaned and dressed,” he said but he was looking over Emma to where Ruby standing. They had been patching each other up since they were kids. Ruby’s brows pulled down as her eyes flicked between his face and his shoulder.

“I’ll find something we can use as bandages,” Ruby said already turning and moving off to disappear among the crates to dig through the suitcases and trunks.

“Let me help you,” Emma said quietly, pulling his attention back to her.

He hesitated, searching her wide green eyes for any reason not to trust her, but he was met with nothing but reassurance. For years he had prided himself on his ability to read people, to know when a deal or job was going to go south. Just a look and he would know what someone was planning, what they were hiding. But Emma was different, there was an openness to her that he had never encountered. It wasn’t a naivety or innocence, it was a truth, and it shone from within her, unable to be contained. It drew him in like gravity.

Slowly eased his jacket off his shoulders. It was difficult to maneuver without jostling the torn tissue in his shoulder. His elbow caught in his sleeve and he hissed as pain shot up his arm. Emma lurched forward, her hands gently replacing his.

“Let me,” she murmured helping him remove his jacket. With the weight of the thick leather gone it was easier to breathe and he took a moment to draw in a few careful deep breaths.

“We need to remove your shirt too,” Emma said her tone a little thin, and he glanced up in time to see a blush bloom across her cheeks.

“Should have known you’d try to get me naked,” he teased raising an eyebrow but it only made her blush turn a shade darker.

“I- I’m just trying to assess the wound,” she said, the words tripping over each other. Nervous, he was making her nervous. He bit back a smile.

“Mmhmm,” he hummed but he started to work the buttons on his waistcoat open.

His mechanical hand clicked with each small movement of the metal fingers and he saw her watching it. Feeling suddenly embarrassed and alien he switched to using only his right hand even if it was slower.

“It’s okay,” she said gently placing a reassuring hand on his arm. He met her gaze for a moment.

Emma reached out tentatively and helped him pull his shirt over his head. He turned his back to her bearing his wound for her inspection. For a long moment she was silent behind him, a change from her reassuring words a moment ago. He suddenly worried the damage to his shoulder might have been worse than he originally thought.

And then she touched him.

Her fingers brushed feather light against him but it was like an electric shock through him. He jerked in surprise and her fingers disappeared.

“I’m sorry,” she breathed from behind him.

He shook his head not turning around. “I just wasn’t expecting it,” he said.

He shut his eyes as he steeled himself for the contact to return. He braced himself for that same thrilling jolt.

She started at the crest of his shoulder her gentle touch tracing down toward the wound making the muscles there tense. He concentrated on breathing: in and out. Warmth radiated over his skin where her touch lingered. Every one of his nerves seemed to spark and stutter. The feeling wasn’t pain exactly, it was like sunshine on a summer day, the brush of a cool breeze, the flare of ecstasy, her touch was intoxicating. It was burning away all his ability to form a thought. She skirted the frayed edges of skin and he flinched.

“It’s not too deep,” Emma said. It was meant to be comforting but her voice was strained. He wondered if this was affecting her too.

He didn’t trust himself to speak so he merely nodded, his eyes still closed tightly. Her hand drifted again, moving down lower on his back, each inch she traced making his stomach clench. He wondered if dying might be easier than this torture.

“I couldn’t find much,” Ruby’s voice said making them both jump. Emma’s hand pulled away leaving his skin suddenly cold. “But I’ve got a sewing kit and a cotton shirt we can tear up.”

Killian swallowed thickly and cleared his throat. “This ought to be fun,” he muttered.

Emma reached out to Ruby. “I can do it,” she said softly.

Ruby blinked in surprise, her eyes shifting to him. He could read the question in them, but he was as surprised as she was. Just a couple days ago Emma had been a stranger, just another face in the city, and now she was asking them to trust her. It wasn’t something either of them were used to. But he gave Ruby a small nod.

She fixed Emma with a warning stare that could have withered more fragile souls, and slowly she passed the supplies she had found to her. Killian glanced away, he wasn’t used to Ruby getting territorial over him. She must have been more shaken up by the ambush at the border more than he had thought.

“Are you ready?” Emma asked him and he looked from her to the threaded needle in her hand.

He swore under his breath. “Any chance you found rum?” he asked Ruby but she just chuckled and walked away.

“Just try thinking of something else, something nice,” Emma suggested. “It helps.”

His brows raised in question. “Have you done this before?”

She shrugged, a gesture more nonchalant than Killian thought this situation warranted. “There weren’t many healers where I lived. You find ways to treat and mend people, to keep going”

He took a deep breath, if he over thought this he’d never go through with it. “Okay, let’s go.”

Emma moved toward him again and he turned around to give her access to his shoulder. “I’m sorry in advance,” she said as she laid a hand on him to steady herself.

The needle made its first pass through his skin and he cringed letting out a groan. The thread pulled at his torn skin. His wound burned, stinging pain slicing through him. He clenched his fist in the fabric of his pants gripping it until his knuckles turned white.

Emma grip on him tightened in response and he felt her falter pausing for a moment. He took a few quick shallow breaths hoping she finished quickly, hoping he didn’t pass out.

“I- I used to have these dreams,” she said softly, the words quiet at first but finding their confidence. “Dreams of gilded carriages pulled by horses with gleaming coats and shining harnesses, snow storms and cold wind against a window, the taste of raspberry tarts, and cherry blossoms in the spring.”

Killian knew she was just talking to keep them both calm, but he appreciated the gesture. He tried to concentrate on her voice. The gentle tone, the soft memories.

“And then I would wake up and it would all fade. I used to wonder where the dreams came from. They were like something from someone else’s life. I’ve never even had a raspberry tart. When I was young I wondered if they were some of the memories I had lost, and I used to think it meant I might be remembering some of what happened. But after a few years I still didn’t have any real memories from my childhood, and I know now I probably never will.”

Killian grit his teeth as the needle made another stitch. Perhaps some pain was not meant to be remembered. Maybe she was better off not knowing what happened to her, how she had lost her family, how she had ended up alone.

But they were counting on her being the princess, or at least pretending to be. Maybe these dreams were as good a place as any to start. Cracks in the wall hiding her memories. If there were cracks then maybe they could break through and help her remember.

“I used to imagine my family,” Emma continued. “My parents, caring and loving. In my mind they would laugh a lot and they would be in love. I always wondered if they might be looking for me.”

He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination but a numbness started to spread over his skin from the place her hand was resting against his back holding him. As if her touch was somehow easing a little of the pain, and it was a blessed small relief. He tried to relax his tightly coiled muscles a little.

“All lost children wonder about their parents, why they left them, where they are,” Killian said gruffly the words coming in groups between his ragged breaths.

Emma absorbed his words, as if she could sense a little of his own grim childhood that gave the weight of truth to his tone. “I suppose.”

He looked over his shoulder at her. She was staring off, remembering something he couldn’t see. But then she caught his glance and cleared her throat before returning to her work.

It only took a few more stitches before Emma breathed a sigh and leaned away from him. “It’s done.”

He stayed still, afraid to disrupt the wound. The stitches were only mending thread, and Emma was hardly a surgeon.

“It’s okay, Killian,” she said noticing his stiff posture, “You can move.”

He turned to her slowly carefully shifting his weight. He was very aware of the way her eyes flicked down to his bare chest, a little warmth flaring in his stomach. Another blush tinted her cheeks.

“Thank you, Emma,” he said. His voice seemed to startle her and she glanced up at him before looking away.

“It was nothing,” she said dismissively fiddling with the thread.

He reached out gathering her hand in his own. “It wasn’t nothing,” he told her. “Thank you.”

She nodded, looking down at their hands where they lay against her knee. It was the first time he had been so close to her. His eyes traced her delicate features. The long thick eyelashes nearly brushing her rounded cheeks. The flare of her cheekbones, the curve of her lips. In that moment he wanted nothing more than to lean forward and kiss her. To feel the soft brush of her lips against his.

He leaned just little closer to her and her eyes flashed between his before falling to his lips. Maybe she wanted to kiss him too. It felt like time slowed and he could see it his mind: the brush of his nose against her cheek as he closed the distance between them. She would tense at first, a little surprised perhaps, but then she would let out a small breath and she’d move closer to him. The gentle of press of her against him as he gathered her closer, his hand lifting to her cheek, the tips of his fingers in her golden hair. With a tilt of her head she’d open her lips and he’d deepen the kiss. The only thing that would exist would be Emma, and-

She pulled her hand gently away and stood up shocking him out of his thoughts like cold water poured over him. Killian watched her from the floor. She didn’t meet his gaze as she gathered up the sewing kit and turned, leaving him alone.

He pressed his fingers into the corner of his eyes. “Get it together,” he muttered under his breath. Two days with a pretty girl and he was daydreaming up fantasies like a schoolgirl.

~*~

Emma took her time winding the extra thread around the spool and carefully repacking the sewing kit. She needed something occupy her hands, something to concentrate on. Otherwise her mind would wander back to the feel of Killian’s warm skin and the firm muscles underneath. The sight of him sitting tensely shirtless in front of her. If she stopped moving her hands she would wonder what would have happened if she hadn’t walked away. That burning look in his eyes, the way his gaze had lingered on her lips.

“Thank you,” Ruby said appearing beside her startling her. “I know he won’t say it, so I’m going to.”

Emma looked at her. It was the first time she had seen Ruby soften, a little of her hard exterior slipping away. 

“You don’t have to worry,” Emma said closing the sewing kit. “He actually already thanked me. And besides, it was nothing.”

Ruby blinked, a look of surprise settling over her features. “He thanked you?” she asked in disbelief.

“Well yeah, I had just stitched him up.” 

Ruby shook her head with a chuckle. “He never thanks anyone, usually just plays it off with a witty comment and a sly grin. He doesn’t like to admit he needs help.”

“Oh,” Emma joked, “I wouldn’t have let him get away with that.”

Ruby raised an eyebrow, an expression Emma would have bet every last silver in her purse she had picked up from Killian. “Well it’s good we found you. He needs someone who will put him in his place.”

“I thought that was you,” Emma said.

Ruby just laughed. “Come on,” she said waving for Emma to follow her. “I’ve set up a place for us to sleep for a few hours. And in the morning we get to work on you.”

“Me?”

“Princesses aren’t born they’re made,” Ruby said looking her up and down. “And we’ve got a lot of work to do.”

Emma glanced down at herself. Sure, she might not look the part of a princess yet, but she wasn’t a disaster. “Actually,” she muttered, “princesses are born.”

Ruby grinned her sly grin. “Well you better hope, just this once, it’s possible to make one. Get some sleep, Your Highness.”

Emma shuffled off in the direction she was pointing. At the far end of the train car Ruby had laid out some blankets for them to sleep on. Killian was already asleep on his stomach. Emma could see the stain from his blood still on the shoulder of his shirt, again the thought of her hands on him made her stomach flutter. 

She settled down as far away from him as possible and tried to let the rhythm of the train rock her to sleep.

For hours she tossed and turned, sitting up to punch the bundle of cloth into a more comfortable pillow. She closed her eyes and counted her breaths, she tried to remember the sound of the gentle waves on the shore by the fishing village where she had lived. She tried to imagine the stars on a cloudless night. The sound of wind through a field of wildflowers. Nothing seemed to work, the slightest jerk of the train, a slight movement of the others beside her, and she was jolted awake.

She was sure she hadn’t slept at all before Ruby was shaking her. “Good morning, Princess. Time to get to work.”

Emma groaned and tried to burrow back into the blankets. Ruby snatched them off giving her a pat on the shoulder. “Let’s go.”

With a huff she eased up into a sitting position, rubbing at her eyes. “The only reason I’m doing this is because I’m pretty sure once I’m a princess you can’t force me to wake up before I want to,” she muttered.

Ruby smiled. “Yeah, yeah, come on, breakfast is waiting.”

It turned out breakfast was not something to get excited over either. Just more of the bread and cheese they had been eaten the night before, although now a little tougher and stale. Another reminder she definitely wasn’t a princess yet.  
Emma chewed on a crust of bread until her cheek muscles hurt. “So, what are we going to be learning?”

Ruby eyed the way she had spoken with food still in her mouth. “Well, we certainly have plenty to do with your table manners.”

Emma playfully shoved her and swallowed. “My manners are fine.”

“Sure, for a black bear,” Ruby snickered.

Emma rolled her eyes. “What makes you such an expert on royal etiquette?”

Ruby swallowed and took her time before she met Emma’s eyes. “I spent some time in court,” she said. Emma thought she might elaborate more but she simply grabbed up the rest of the bread and took a bite. 

“Let’s skip table manners for a moment. What else do I have to know?” Emma asked.

Killian appeared and sat down beside them pulling a large book from Ruby’s bag. He glanced at Emma before passing the book to Ruby. She opened the engraved cover and flipped through the thick pages.

“This book documents all the noble families of Misthaven as well as surrounding lands. The Princess would have been taught geography, important cities and important people from all the neighboring countries. She would have been a diplomat, a public figure, and future leader.”

Emma blew out a breath as she sized up the thick spine of the book. “I need to learn all of this?” she asked feeling a little sick.

“Oh no,” Ruby said and Emma relaxed until she continued. “You will need to know much more than just this book.”

Emma laughed bitterly. “What did I agree to?”

Ruby gave an understanding smile. “It’s alright, Emma. We’ll start slow. We have plenty of time, you’ll get it.”

She appreciated that, and she rolled her shoulders shaking off the exhaustion from a poor night of sleep and all her doubts. “Okay, let’s get started.”

Ruby beamed and Emma glanced at Killian to see a small smile pulling at his lips. 

They spent the morning working through the geography of Misthaven. And then moved on to prominent families that the princess would have known. The Nolan family, related to royal family by the marriage of King David Nolan to the Queen. The Nolans had held an Earldom in DunBroch. There was the French family who were stewards in the south, a province of farmland that fed most of the country. The Phrygia family that included the Duke of Gordium, they were extremely rich and powerful. They had aligned with the Industrialists early on and had weathered the revolt mostly untouched and still remained influential to that day. There were rumors that without investment by the Phrygia family the Industrialists would have never gotten off the ground. And of course, the Blanchard family, the Royal Family. They had ruled Misthaven for over six centuries.

Emma stared at the branching family trees. Generations and generations, children and parents, different marriages that sometimes tied families together blurring all the family trees until it was a jumble in her mind. Blanchard, Nolan, French, Phrygia, Boyd, Dantes, Tremaine, Morgan. She chanted the names over and over trying to commit them to memory.

At sunset Ruby opened the train car door a little, enough to let in a little fresh air and let them see a little of the scenery as it flashed by. The forest was already thinning a little from what it had been in Misthaven. 

“Feeling overwhelmed yet?” Killian asked sitting down beside her.

Emma smiled down at her hands in lap. “Would you pitch me off the train if I said yes?” 

She saw Killian shake his head beside her. “It would be completely normal to be.”

Overwhelmed didn’t seem nearly a strong enough word to describe the slightly nauseous feeling settling in her stomach. 

“Sometimes it helps to concentrate on the reasons you’re doing this,” Killian suggested.

Emma glanced at him before looking out at the trees moving past. “When it seemed my lost family wasn’t coming to find me my only goal became leaving. There has always been this part me that believed if I could just get on an airship and leave Misthaven then everything would be alright. Well, it hasn’t worked out exactly as I had imagined, and I’m not any closer to finding out who I am, in fact, now I’m giving everything I have to try to become someone else.”

Killian was quiet for a moment, the two of them watching the world steadily roll by them. She appreciated that about him, he actually listened, and never rushed his response, never settling for easy platitudes.

“As someone who has pretended to be many things,” he said finally, “you can learn quite a lot about yourself by being someone else.” 

“What I am learning is that I am definitely not a princess,” Emma muttered. 

“Maybe not yet,” he said. “But you’ll get there.”

Emma shot him a disbelieving look. 

He smiled. “I mean it, Emma. Focus on the things you have common. Start there, that is the foundation, and then build the details from there.”

“And what do we have in common?” Emma asked sarcastically. “Blonde hair?”

Killian shifted, facing her more fully. His gaze floated over her as he considered her carefully. Emma felt her heart speed up a little under his scrutiny. “You are determined, you don’t let anything control you- not your past, not your fears. You care about others. And you are a leader, not an overbearing or tyrannical one, but still you have gotten Ruby and I to do everything you’ve asked since we met. Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Emma was taken aback by his assessment and the utter sincerity with which he said it. She sorted through each of his comments. Determined, well, she had to be or she would have died in some ditch beside a country road long ago. She cared about others, but didn’t everyone? The one she had the most trouble accepting was that she was a leader. When she thought of leaders she thought of military generals, or conquerors, or queens. And she had never been one of those. No one had ever listened to her, or followed her, or paid her any attention. She was tempted to not believe him, but so far he had seemed to have annoyingly accurate sense of her. Maybe he had somehow managed to see a part of her she hadn’t even known existed.

“I don’t know about you,” he said gently, “but I think someone with those qualities would make a fine princess, regardless of how well she can recite the names and members of the noble families.”

She felt the corner of her lips pull up into a small smile. “Thank you,” she said and he nodded in response.

“Although I’m afraid Ruby may not be satisfied with just the basics. She is going to insist on making sure you are perfect down to the last detail,” he warned glancing over his shoulder at where Ruby was thoughtfully flipping through the pages of a new book. 

The next day they dove into history. Misthaven, they told her, had been a prosperous country for generations, known for its trade and textiles. It had one of the few kingdoms to take steps to institute programs to help the less fortunate. The Queen herself had been known to go out and visit hospitals and had worked closely with organizations to help provide education for a variety of vocations. She had raised the university to one of international renown. She also had a special love of animals, from the horses in the royal stables to the wild animals and birds in the woods. The royal family had been well liked, but none more than the Princess. She had been a kind girl with a sharp sense of humor and sense of mischief. There were even reports she had possessed powerful light magic. The people had hoped she would grow into a leader who might even surpass her parents. Many had had high hopes for the future of Misthaven.  It had been a place of opportunity and promise. But where opportunities existed there was also the potential for exploitation. 

“And that was when Gold appeared,” Killian said. “He had been an unknown inventor when he started sharing his inventions and ideas. In no time he was hailed as an innovator. Everyone jumped at the chance to integrate his ideas. To use steam power to change the way goods were made and how people traveled. He took the idea behind a horse and cart and mechanized it and made it self-propelled. He proposed using gas to create lights that were more efficient than candles. Soon there wasn’t an industry that wasn’t begging him for his ideas.”

Emma furrowed her brow trying to remember what they were describing. Had she been in the city as it had rapidly undergone massive change? Had she watched as the gas conduits had been installed until every night the windows filled with the brighter glow from the gas lamps. The whir and clack of machines taking the place of smiths and cobblers. But no matter how much she wracked her mind she couldn’t remember a world before the revolt.

“And then the next step was for Gold to start inviting others striving for innovation to join him. Together the leaders of every industry formed the Industrialist Guild. They gained influence quickly. But in secret, unknown to anyone, Gold had other plans. Behind everyone’s backs he had created an army, the blackguards, to carry out his will. He equipped them with his mostly deadly inventions and when the time was right he struck”

“He killed the Royal Family,” Emma said softly.

“So we were told. Mutilated bodies washed ashore in the harbor that were identified as the King and Queen, but there was never any trace of Princess Emma,” Ruby said. Killian looked away running a hand over his face before resting his chin on his palm.

“At first it seemed like everything might go back to normal,” Ruby said her gaze a hundred miles away as she remembered it. “Those first few weeks everything had changed and everyone was scared but it seemed the raids and riots had passed. I think everyone wanted to believe it was over. People threw themselves back into their work and their jobs, clinging to normalcy. But it wasn’t long before the Industrialists came for the nobles, anyone who might have sympathy for the royals. They sent them away, or made them disappear. Dukes and Lords who had watched out for their people and tenants were gone. When there was no one with the authority to challenge them the Industrialists began to push their ideas onto everyone: the way of science over old world magic. 

“There was a small push back but even that died out because at that time it seemed the Industrialists might have been right. Just after the revolt Gold started introducing the most amazing inventions, feats of engineering, things no one thought were possible. It seemed like there wasn’t a problem that wouldn’t have an answer within a few years. People were quick to join in the condemnation of magic. They began to blame magic for holding them back all along. And soon we were rounding up anyone who practiced magic. They were taken for questioning, for ‘re-education’, or conversion and reintegration into society. Whatever it was they said they were doing to help or rehab those with magic, the truth was they were never seen again. And when everyone stopped questioning that, stopped questioning their authority, the Industrialists completely seized power and instituted their own self-serving laws.”

“It started small,” Killian said. “Curfews, a census, new taxes. Then the regulations: all merchants needed to be registered to do business, no craftsman could operate without the express permission of the Industrialist Guild, only those within the Guild could pursue education at the University. Then the borders were closed and they took control of the newspapers and mail.”

“Systemized oppression,” Emma said. “That I do remember. It wasn’t quite as bad in the country but people were always fearful.”

“The cities were crawling with spies and informants for the Industrialists. For most people it was the only way to make money or gain favor of the Guild. It turned people against their friends and drove deep divisions between people. What was once a place known for its compassion and opportunity became a pit of deceit and corruption.”

“If it was so bad, why didn’t you leave? You had the means.” Emma asked them.

Ruby glanced at Killian who was watching Emma with an unreadable expression. Ruby seemed to decide she would have to speak for both of them. “It was still home.”

Emma acknowledged that sentiment but she didn’t accept it. “What changed? Why leave now?”

“You appeared,” Killian said his piercing gaze still pinning her in place. She could tell it wasn’t a lie.

“And just like that it wasn’t home anymore?” Emma pressed. She had spent all her life looking for someplace to call home. What would she offer that would make them leave their home? 

“Well, it’s a little more complicated than that,” Ruby said. “We’ve been skirting regulations for years, bending the laws, drawing a bit outside the lines. Eventually it was going to catch up with us. And with Killian’s history with Gold-”

“Ruby,” he cut her off. “That’s enough.”

Both Emma and Ruby turned to him in surprise. Emma snatched at that little fragment of information. So Killian had history with Gold, the head of the Industrialists, and yet he seemed to have no love for him or the Guild. So something bad had happened between them. It now seemed doubly impressive that he and Ruby had slipped through their fingers all this time.

“It was time to leave,” Ruby said in conclusion. It was clearly only a part of the story, but apparently it was all she was going to get.

A shudder ran through the train, the cars jolting, and then there was a grinding screech as the brakes engaged.

“We’re stopping,” Emma said looking around. “We can’t be in Glowerhaven already.”

“We’re not,” Killian said pulling the pistol out from his belt.

Ruby snapped the book shut and set it aside looking at Killian. They shared a loaded look.

“You think they’re stopping because of us?” Ruby asked him.

“I think that’s a fair assumption,” he said looking around at the bags and trunks in the car. “Did you find any weapons in all of this?” he asked.

Ruby grinned and walked over to a wooden crate. She kicked the lid off revealing a shotgun and a case of shells packed carefully within it. “Like this?” she asked him.

Killian looked from the shotgun in the crate to Emma. “Do you know how to use this?” he asked grabbing it and holding it out to her.

She shrugged. “I’ve done a lot of hunting.”

He smirked. “Country girl,” he muttered passing the gun to her.

“City boy,” she replied as she took it weighing it her hand and loading shells into it with a practiced hand.

“If you two are done flirting,” Ruby said from the front of the car, “we have a major problem.”

“What is it?” Killian asked moving to join her but not before Emma saw him nervously rub behind his ear at Ruby’s comment.

“They’ve uncoupled the cars,” Ruby said pointing out the door where Emma could see the rest of the train steaming ahead down the track leaving them behind.

“They knew we were in here,” Killian said. 

Ruby clenched her jaw. A caged wolf. “What the hell do we do?”

“Your little adventure is at an end,” A voice said from behind making them all jump. “There’s no point fighting.”

Four blackguards materialized from the shadows moving in unison as they circled around them.

“Like hell,” Emma growled as she raised the shotgun and shot straight at the leader’s heart. The shot disintegrated into dust when it hit the blackguard’s vest. She fired again watching that shot fail as well before she hesitated.

“I told you there was no point in fighting,” the leader snarled. “Drop your weapons.”

Killian took a step forward moving in front of her and Ruby protectively. He made a show of placing the pistol on the floor. “What is it you want?” he asked. “We have committed no crimes here.”

The leader laughed, a dark steely sound. “You’re stowaways on this train.”

Emma tightened her grip on her gun.

Killian seemed to hesitate for a moment before switching tactics. “You have no authority here. We aren’t in Misthaven anymore.”

The blackguard just shook his head in something close to pity. “This train is property of the Industrialist Guild. We are enforcing the policy of no unauthorized travel over the Misthaven border using Guild property. And we’re not even taking any of your other crimes into consideration.”

“How kind of you,” Killian said pleasantly, but as he spoke his hand drifted to his belt and he slid out a small dagger. 

With a quick flick of his wrist the dagger flew and sank into the blackguard’s throat, a rush of blood pouring from the wound.

The other three blackguards watched in shock for a moment as their leader crumpled to the ground.

Killian spun, turning to her and Ruby. “Go!” he shouted pointing past Emma to the open door.

Emma barely had a second to react before the three remaining blackguards surged forward to stop them escaping. One of them tackled her to the floor knocking the gun from her hands. She heard a gunshot echo loudly in the train car and she hoped Killian and Ruby were okay. Killian fighting with his wounded shoulder.

Emma grunted as the blackguard pinned her down, his knee pressing into her thigh. She writhed trying squirm free. 

“That’s right,” he murmured lewdly, “just like that, girl.”

Emma’s blood curdled. She pulled back and slammed her fist into his side with everything she had. He grunted, distracted for a split second and she cracked her forehead against his temple. His grip loosened a fraction and she pushed him off rolling to her knees. She grabbed the shotgun off the floor and pressed it into the side of his neck, unprotected by his armor, the same spot Killian’s knife had struck the leader.

“You’re nothing more than a puppet of a madman,” she said her finger tightening on the trigger.

“You have no idea who you are, do you?” he sneered. She didn’t wait to hear more and instead pulled the trigger turning away from the splatter of blood.  
  
She leapt up to help the others. Ruby was trading blows with one of the blackguards, each of them with a knife drawn. She seemed to be holding her own. 

Killian on the other hand was losing ground.  His wound had opened again and she could see the fresh blood staining his shirt. He was trying to compensate with his other arm but it wasn’t his dominant hand and he was sloppy, not landing hits and taking too many.

She reloaded the gun and aimed but she couldn’t get a clear shot. There was a thud as Ruby kicked over her opponent her knife dripping with his blood. That was all the distraction the blackguard needed to strike Killian across the jaw knocking him off balance. He raised his gun pointing it directly at Killian.

“Go!” Killian shouted to them again meeting her eyes instead of protecting himself. He was sacrificing himself to give them time to escape.

Emma could already see it. The shot would strike him between his ribs, it was unlikely to hit his heart but it would tear through his chest. It wouldn’t kill him instantly, but it would be lethal, flooding his lungs. If they ran the blackguard would follow Ruby and her off the train, and Killian would be left behind to die alone.

The image eclipsed everything else in her mind. She knew she should be running but her feet refused to move, the dread and fear immobilizing her. Everything seemed to slow, time stretching. She saw Killian notice her hesitation, she saw the blackguard take his aim, his finger squeezing at the trigger. Killian had less than a second. 

Something woke from deep within her. It spread quickly from the center of her chest. A warmth flooding through her, twisting down her veins like lightning. All at once she was fire and the deadly sea, the strange energy limitless. The feeling pounded through her, a spark flaring to an explosion until with a crack that felt like all her bones splintering, the feeling rushed from her, set free from its cage, igniting the air around her and crackling through the train car. She concentrated on the blackguard as another wave of power rushed through her. She heard his yell as the force snapped his spine. 

And then the feeling faded and Emma felt all her energy draining away. Her muscles shaking and failing, she collapsed to the floor as she gasped for breath. She stared at her hands, they seemed to be glowing, or it could have been stars behind her eyes as her vision blurred, everything going dark at the edges. She was going to pass out. What the hell was happening to her?

And then the train car disappeared from her vision and instead different images flashed before her eyes. Snow drifting against the sides of buildings. Dark windows lining a dimly lit street. The flicker of flames in the distance. The slick stones beneath her slippered feet. She saw two blurred figures bent together. The sound of screaming echoing around her. A black shadow. The smell of phosphor, and the feel of electricity in the air. Hands grabbing her. A sensation like hooks under her skin. Blue eyes. Someone calling her name. Emma. Coldness creeping over her. Emma. Footsteps in the woods.  Woods like the ones she had ridden through on her way to the border.  _Emma_.

“Emma!” a voice called, hands shaking her shoulders. 

She blinked, wanting to hold on to those flashes a little longer. Trying to find the meaning of them. Why did they seem so familiar?

“Emma!” she recognized Killian’s voice now. “Come on, stay with me.”

She lifted her hand to grip his arm weakly. “I’m okay. I’m fine,” she said but the words were muddled. It felt like she was speaking with cotton in her mouth. She tried to open her eyes but it just made her head pound and she swayed.

“Whoa, whoa,” Killian said holding her steady. “I’ve got you.”

It took a moment in the sturdy hold of Killian’s hands for her to feel even a little grounded. The flashes she had seen were fading from her mind leaving only a vague blur, everything fading together but now she was pretty sure his voice and the feel of him was reality.

She looked up at him, noting the worry in his expression. “I thought you were going to die,” she breathed.

He smiled weakly, lifting a hand to brush back a lock of her hair. “I’m okay now,” he paused before adding, “Thanks to you.”

“What happened?” she asked remembering that strange force all around her, the way it had crashed over her. “I felt it.”

He frowned, his brows pulling down.

“It was like…” she struggled to describe it.  _Magic_. But she had never heard of magic that powerful.

“Holy shit, Emma,” Ruby said coming to kneel beside them. Her hand rubbed over Emma’s arm. “Why didn’t you tell us you could do that?”

Emma looked between them. Killian’s apprehensive expression to Ruby’s look of wonder. “I did that?” she asked softly.

Killian nodded. Emma felt lightheaded, it wasn’t possible. It simply wasn’t.  
  
“I think I’m going to pass out,” she told them weakly.

Her vision swam and the last thing she felt was Killian pulling her into his chest before everything went black.


	5. Things My Heart Used To Know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Artwork by @prongsie!

Emma woke disoriented. She lifted a hand to rub at her eyes. Her mouth was dry. She felt like hell. She sat up, the motion making her head pound as if she had drunk way too much ale the night before. She tried to remember what had happened.

It came back suddenly, the blackguards had found them, she had saved them with some unknown power within her. That wasn’t something she wanted to think about too much. What she really wanted to know more about were those flashes, the images that had come to her. They were different from the dreams she had as a child. These were so much more real, they were visceral, she had no doubt those flashes had been memories that had been locked away deep within her.

She bent her knees to her chest resting her forehead against them as she tried to conjure those flashes again. A flicker at first but growing clearer. She played them over and over in her mind: the snow falling, the screams, the bursts of light, dark streets with slanting shadows, someone calling her name. Each time she tried to find something new within them. Some kind of clue, but it was all a jumble, each image too small a fragment for her to get any sense of the larger picture.

“Emma, you’re awake!” Ruby said excitedly. Emma opened her eyes looking up.

She nodded weakly. “How long was I asleep? I feel terrible.”

Ruby passed her a canteen of water. “You’ve been out of it for a few days.”

“Days?” Emma repeated in surprise. She glanced around taking in the rough metal walls, they were still in the same train car. There was no more rattling or vibration in the floor, so she assumed they must have come to a stop.

“We didn’t want to move you,” Ruby said following her gaze at the car around them. “I didn’t know how you’re supposed to care for someone who passes out from….”

“Magic?” Emma finished for her. “That was magic wasn’t it?”

Ruby nodded slowly. “Emma,” she started before pausing for a long moment.

There was something in her expression that made Emma apprehensive. From what she had seen there was little that could rattle Ruby, and yet, here she was hesitating. Hiding something she didn’t want to tell her.

“What?” Emma asked at last.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asked.

Emma shook her head. “I didn’t know. It’s never happened before.”

Ruby pursed her lips for a moment, she seemed to searching for the right words. Magic had be outlawed for as long as Emma could remember. The witches, sorcerers, even the seers and potion makers, all of them had been hunted and demonized. Most people, given the choice, would rather have been trapped in a room with a person riddled with plague than someone with magic.

“Does it scare you?” Emma asked her. “My having magic?”

Because it was scaring the hell out of her.

Ruby met her gaze. “No, it doesn’t scare me,” she said her tone truthful. “I have seen magic before, years ago. It was simply a part of life before the revolt. No rumors or Industrialist propaganda and fear mongering is going to make me fear or hate magic. It is elemental, natural. It’s like trying to convince me to hate the wind or water.”

Emma stared at her, struck again by Ruby’s conviction and unfailing ability to accept others. She was the kind of person anyone would be lucky to consider a friend and Emma hoped someday she might be a fraction as self-assured as Ruby.

“Actually, this might work out in our favor,” Ruby said slowly already forming a plan.

“How?” Emma asked.

“Well it’s just, Princess Emma could do magic. So if you can too then we should have no trouble convincing anyone you could be the princess,” Ruby said, the words picking up speed as she spoke.

Emma frowned. It reminded her of the conversation she had had with Killian, about the things she had in common with the princess.

“But anyone who knew the princess won’t be convinced by a few sparks and magic tricks. They’ll see me and know it is a lie.”

“I met the princess when I was a little girl,” Ruby said surprising her. “And when I saw you I made the connection at once.”

“You knew the royal family?”

Ruby nodded. “I visited court a few times. My grandmother was a close friend of the Queen. She had taken care of her when she was growing up. Over time my grandmother became something of an advisor, she even sat in on important council meetings. She didn’t really belong next to the lords and knights but the Queen always listened to what she had to say. She knitted my baby blanket at those meetings, Princess Emma’s too.”

Ruby smiled at the memory. “I used to play in the gardens and try to climb over the walls and battlements. I was always getting into trouble but the Queen was kind enough to let me stay no matter what. And she saw to it that I got an education, I even shared a tutor with the Princess for a summer.”

Emma considered that. “Perhaps you would be better suited to pretend to be the princess. You had a lot in common, you remember what it’s like to live like nobility. You’re from that world.”

“I’m not the princess,” Ruby said firmly.

There was something in her tone that made Emma curious. She wondered if Ruby was what Princess Emma would be like if she hadn’t disappeared. The girl from the castle who loved her country enough to fight for it. Resilient, strong, but also kind and generous, beloved, someone for others to hold on to and rally behind. A symbol of resistance to the people.

“What happened to your family? Your grandmother?” Emma asked a little afraid to know the answer. There were no happy endings in Misthaven, especially not for someone so close to the royals.

“My grandmother was there that night,” Ruby said her gaze dropping to her lap. She plucked at the hem of her skirt. “The night of the revolt. She was in the castle. The royal family was evacuated but Granny stayed behind to give them time. She held off the blackguards and rioters with her old crossbow.”

“She didn’t make it?” Emma guessed.

Ruby smiled sadly. “Actually, I remember her coming back to our little place hours after the fighting had died down. She didn’t say anything, and she didn’t let me near her bloodstained clothes. I asked her what happened but she didn’t answer, just said it was over.”

Emma had never heard of anyone who had survived the raid on the castle. All the rumors, the whispered stories, told of the massacre it had been. No one connected to the royal family had been spared.

“But it hadn’t been over,” Ruby continued her voice quieter. “They came days later. Knocked down the door.”

Emma looked away feeling sick, she didn’t want to hear the rest of it.

“They killed her there. In her own living room, right in front of me,” Ruby whispered a tear escaping down her cheek. “They didn’t even spare me a glance.”

For the first time in her life Emma thought maybe she was lucky she couldn’t remember that time. Maybe it was better she didn’t know what had happened to her family. Maybe it was better to have woken up in the woods alone than to have to remember everyone you lost.

Emma reached over to lay a hand on Ruby’s arm. She barely acknowledged it, but there was a little more strength to her words as she continued.

“I ran after them,” Ruby said, “tried to hurt them, the monsters that killed the last of my family. But they just shoved me aside as if I were nothing. Not even worth the time to deal with, to put down. I hated them. And I decided right then and there I would be as large a thorn in their side as possible. I would do what I could to bring them down.”

Emma smiled a little. She couldn’t help but think Ruby’s Granny would have been proud of the woman her granddaughter had become.

“That’s how I met Killian,” she said. “We were both angry and alone and very eager to make the Industrialists pay.”

“Killian?” Emma repeated.

Ruby nodded a smile spreading across her face. “He was a bit of a mess back then,” she laughed. “He was little more than a street orphan, injured, alone, but I didn’t care, after all I was newly an orphan too. The city was always a hard place and no time more than those months. I thought I was so lucky because I had found someone else, but he was hesitant at first. I’m sure he didn’t want some pampered girl slowing him down.”

Emma tried to imagine a younger Ruby and a surly teenage Killian. A more mismatched pair than they were now.

“The first few days I just followed him around, trying to get him to notice me, trying to prove I could be useful. He used to work odd jobs around the city, none that wanted a girl. I would wait outside wherever he was until he was done and then I would pester him some more.”

She chuckled at the thought.

“How did you convince him?” Emma asked.

“I saved his life. We were camped in an alley for the night trying to escape the snow. I was burrowed down in every layer of clothing I had, but still I knew I wasn’t going to sleep much. I could hear Killian shivering and restless near me. It was one of those cold winter nights that makes people desperate, and there were bands of dangerous and homeless people who roamed the underbelly of the city. Maybe if we had been able to afford a little more hot soup, or another blanket we might have slept through it and never heard them coming. They found us and tried to kill us and steal what little we had. They held me back and started to beat him. His wounded hand had made him slow and vulnerable. But I grabbed my bag and swung it for all I was worth. I fought them off until they decided we were too much trouble and ran off. After that Killian started paying attention to me, making sure I didn’t myself into any real trouble and killed. We’ve had each other’s backs ever since.”

Emma wondered what would have happened if she had been saved by someone all those years ago. If someone had been there to fight for her when she lost everything, would that have changed anything? Who would she have become if she hadn’t ended up alone and abandoned?

“We helped each other and scraped together a life as everything fell apart around us. But pretty quickly we agreed what we wanted most, more than riches, more than anything, was revenge.”

“Why did he want revenge?” Emma asked.

“I’m not sure it’s my story to tell,” Ruby said softly. “But that night the royal family fell he saw a lot of the riots in the city. He saw the blackguards marching in the streets, he saw-”

Ruby cut off with a glance at Emma before she continued. “He tried to stop a group of blackguards, that’s ultimately how he lost his hand. He grew up that night, we all did.”

“Did they kill his family too?” Emma asked her.

“No,” Ruby said slowly. “No, his brother had died at sea before the revolt, and his parents had been gone years before that.”

Emma felt a rush of sympathy for him.

“Ruby always does make it sound tragic,” Killian said from behind them making Emma jump. She looked sheepishly up to where he stood above them. She wondered how long he had been standing there and how much of their conversation he had heard. “I managed just fine.”

He said it with a bit too much of an edge to be entirely truthful. It was a defensiveness she recognized, it was an armor you got when you were an orphan.

“It’s good you’re awake,” he added glancing at Emma, “We need to get moving. We’ve wasted enough time here.”  

“I’m sorry my saving your life put us behind schedule,” Emma grumbled easing up to her feet. Killian only blinked at her but Emma caught Ruby’s small smirk.

“How far are we from Glowerhaven?” she asked them.

“Days,” Ruby said. “And now we have no transportation.”

“And we likely have more blackguards coming after us,” Killian added.

“Sounds perfect,” Emma mumbled.

Killian turned away. “I’m going to make a full sweep of the surrounding area to be sure it’s safe to leave the train car.”

Emma worked to gather her things. Her hands shook slightly, her fingers just a little numb and it made her struggle to grip anything tightly. There was a nearly bone deep exhaustion that she couldn’t quite shake. She tried to push down the frustration at that, had she not just slept for days? How could she still be tired?

“All clear,” Killian’s voice called from outside.

Emma shouldered her bag nodding at Ruby who was waiting for her by the door with her hand extended up to help her out of the train car. Emma was grateful because she still didn’t feel totally herself, everything a little fuzzy and off balance.

Emma gripped her hand tightly for support and still stumbled a little as her feet hit the ground.

“Geez, Emma,” Ruby said. “Your hands are like ice.”

She rummaged through her bag until she pulled out a pair of gloves pushing them toward Emma. She stared her down as Emma slipped them on before, satisfied, she moved off to where Killian was waiting for them.

Emma willed her stiff legs to follow after, but even walking took more effort than it should have. Killian barely spared her a glance as she approached, he merely adjusted the sword at his hip and turned towards the woods.

“Wait, we’re not going back into the woods are we?” Emma asked before gesturing down the tracks. “That’s the way to Glowerhaven.”

Ruby turned putting her hands on her hips. “We can’t risk following the train tracks,” she said. Killian nodded beside her in a way that made Emma sure they had discussed this without her. “We’ll be harder to track in the woods. And if our maps are correct we should find a road a few miles north of here.”

The two of them lead the way into the woods. Emma would have much rather walked the flat, easy to follow train tracks. She swore under her breath as her toe jammed into another hidden stone in the tangle of the underbrush. They wove their way through the trees, some large enough it would have taken several people, arms outstretched holding hands to circle the trunks. The forest was one hazard after another: twisted roots, slick moss, thorned branches that grabbed at her. It seemed impossible but she actually missed the path they’d taken through the woods in Misthaven, that path at least had not torn at her and left her with scratches on her arms and cheek.

“Emma, keep up,” Killian called back from where he was ahead of her.

She rolled her eyes, it wasn’t like she was trying to be slow. If she could have moved quicker and not gotten assaulted by every tree and bush she would have.

“What’s his problem?” Emma asked as she caught up to Ruby.

She paused but, “The last few days had him worried,” was all she said.

Emma couldn’t help but feel guilty. It had been her fault they hadn’t made any progress for days. They had stayed vulnerable in the train car waiting for her to get well. She knew they were all anxious to get to Glowerhaven, she just hadn’t realized Killian would get so put off by a slight delay.

He was probably just worried about the blackguards. If they had found them on the train once it was possible they would find them again. And if that patrol had managed to get word out to others they could be regrouping nearby. The thought sent a chill through Emma.

And now she was slowing them down again. Maybe Killian was regretting doing this, maybe he wished they had found some other girl to pretend to be the princess.

She quickened her steps, trying to push her tired legs faster. Her feet sliding over the rotting leaves on the forest floor. She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to be left behind again, abandoned, cast off. Everyone always decided she wasn’t worth it and she didn’t want Killian and Ruby to come to the same conclusion.

Just when she thought her guilt and self doubt would consume her, swallowing her into despair, her feet hit hard packed ground small stones scattering from her dragging steps. She looked up glancing around, it was the road. She hadn’t noticed the break in the trees. The other two were just a little ahead walking up the small road. She shook her head, she almost hadn’t believed that they’d ever find the road Ruby had mentioned. She was learning not to bet against either of them.

The road offered a smoother surface to walk on, for which she was grateful. But as it meandered over the hills and valleys the miles started to take a toll on her. Each step became a torture as she bargained with herself to push just a little further. The exhaustion of the last few days catching up to her.

The next time they took a short rest Ruby handed her a water canteen. Emma sipped slowly. Even drinking took more concentration and energy than she thought it should. She could feel Ruby’s sharp gaze on her, and she passed back the water with a small smile.

“Emma?” Ruby asked looking her up and down. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Emma said and tried to look as bright, alert and steady on her feet as possible.

“You look terrible,” Ruby said in response.

Emma scoffed. “As always, your comments are so kind and appreciated.”

“Emma,” Ruby said ducking her head a fraction to get Emma’s attention. “Is something wrong?”

Emma shook her head, running a hand over the back of her neck to loosen the knots there. “I’m fine.”

“Ruby?” Killian asked joining them, not quiet meeting Emma’s eyes, “Are we alright?”

Ruby glanced from him to Emma and back. Emma gave a tiny shake of her head, pleading for Ruby to not say anything to Killian. She didn’t want to upset or disappoint him.

“I think we should stop for the night,” Ruby said ignoring Emma’s pointed look.

“Stop?” Killian asked, “we have at least another hour or two of daylight.”

“Killian,” she said a firm edge to her tone. “We are stopping here.”

Killian stared at Ruby for a moment, but didn’t ask any more questions or push the matter. His eyes moved over Emma for a split second before they flicked away and he scanned the treeline at the side of the road for a place to make camp.

Emma was sure that he knew Ruby had made them stop for her. If Ruby had thought she looked exhausted then she had no doubt that Killian, who had been able to read her with just a look, knew as well. She only hoped it wouldn’t make him more angry with her. All day he hadn’t said more than a few words to her, he hadn’t tried to have a conversation or keep her company on their walk. He had ignored her. She hadn’t realized how much that would hurt until it happened. She had gotten used to their conversations, his easy presence.

Emma sank to the ground, her legs no longer willing to support her for another minute. She leaned back against one of the trees and tried to concentrate on breathing deeply instead of how every muscle ached.  All of her limbs felt like they had been turned to stone, their heavy weight rooting her in place. She was pretty sure she would have been happy never moving again.

Emma jerked awake when Ruby pulled a blanket over her tucking it around her shoulders. She hadn’t realized she had dozed off. Ruby gently passed her a handful of dark blue berries. Emma stared at them, she hadn’t noticed either of them go off to gather them. They must have run out of the bread and cheese they had brought with them. That night they didn’t risk a fire, but the air was warmer here than it had been in Misthaven and they would stay warm enough with their blankets and traveling coats wrapped around them.

~*~

Ruby woke and stretched trying to recover from another night sleeping on a hard surface. She hadn’t thought much about exactly what leaving Misthaven would mean at the time. She had been caught up in the idea, in the plan. She and Killian bouncing ideas off each other until they had crafted a perfect con. It was her favorite part of any job, a high she had never found an equal to.

It seemed that this job, like many others in the past, had worked out a little less than perfectly. First the attack at the border, leaving Robin and his men. The train and the blackguards attacking them, twice.   
Then tense days Emma had been unconscious. Killian pacing nervously, his hand running through his hair so much Ruby had been afraid for a while that he might start pulling it out. Several times she had chosen to leave and go find some food in the woods just to get away from him. And always when she returned he’d be by Emma’s side the worry pouring off him. She knew he felt responsible for what had happened. But it was more than that, something had changed, something about the attack and Emma’s magic had changed Killian.

Ruby rubbed her eyes looking around. Killian was gone from beside her, he must have woken before her. Emma was still sleeping on her other side, curled and burrowed under the pile of blankets, including one she had seen Killian using when they fell asleep. Her eyelids still a little blue and translucent, her skin still a little pale. Ruby wondered if they ought to have pushed her so hard yesterday. She had asked Killian several times if they should take a break but he had been sure that if Emma needed to rest she would let them know, that as long as she wanted to continue they would. But when she’d finally taken a good look at Emma in the evening she had known they had been wrong.

Since they had met, Emma had seemed like a force to be reckoned with, willful and strong. She hadn’t stopped fighting, even after inexplicably producing a huge wave of magic. But seeing her practically swaying on the road looking as if she was about to collapse had worried Ruby.

And Ruby vowed to keep a close eye on her today. She wasn’t going to let it go so far. She didn’t want Emma to have to pass out against a tree the moment they stopped again. She didn’t want to see Killian’s concerned expression return again like it had last night, or the way he had almost run off to find food rather than see Emma that way.

“Ruby,” Killian greeted sitting beside her with a small bag of the same berries as last night.

“Morning,” she replied helping herself to some.

They ate in silence for a moment, just enjoying the cool morning air, the mist rising from the trees, the sounds of the songbirds waking.

“How much farther do you think?” Ruby asked him.

He shook his head a little. “I’m not sure. A day? Half a day? Even if we aren’t moving quickly I think we should reach the outskirts of the city by nightfall.”

They both glanced over at where Emma was sleeping.

“What if we delayed and stayed here for at least the morning, just to let her rest?” Ruby asked.

His jaw clenched a little, he didn’t like it. “We’re exposed on the road.”

Ruby popped another handful of berries into her mouth. Better exposed than have Emma keel over on them a few miles up the road. “We’ll keep watch,” she said. “Emma needs rest.”

Killian seemed hesitant, looking down the road for a long moment before replying. “I guess we could wait a few hours.”

Ruby smiled as she chewed. Sitting on the side of road somewhere in the Enchanted Forest eating sour berries, this was definitely not one of their best schemes. She nudged Killian with her leg. “Bet you wish we at least had some coffee at this point,” she joked.

He shrugged. “Maybe if you didn’t sleep so late you could have found us some.”

“Oh, sure,” she laughed. She felt more than heard him chuckle beside her. Killian liked to tease her about her penchant for sleeping in. It wasn’t her fault not everyone liked to wake before dawn like he did.

He looked over at her. “Maybe tomorrow,” he promised.

She turned to share a smile with him.  _Maybe tomorrow._  That had been their oath for as long as they had known each other. Maybe tomorrow they’d get paid. Maybe tomorrow they would have a bed to sleep in. Maybe tomorrow they would find something real to eat. Maybe tomorrow the raids would stop. Maybe tomorrow their friends would return. Maybe tomorrow everything would be better.

“Maybe tomorrow,” she replied.

They sat quietly keeping watch for several hours before Emma started to stir. Killian straightened up beside her his eyes tracking Emma’s movements.

“What time is it?” Emma mumbled her words blending together sleepily.

“It’s nearly midday,” Ruby told her passing her the water and the remainder of the berries.

Emma glanced at the berries but didn’t take any. She groaned as she pushed into a sitting position.

“You should have woken me,” she said clearly trying to pull the tangle of blankets off of her in a way that didn’t show how stiff and sore she was, but Ruby noticed her slight grimace when she moved.

“It’s okay, Emma,” Ruby told her. “We wanted to rest this morning.”

Killian nodded. “We’re getting closer to Glowerhaven now. And it’s probably better to arrive at night and not draw attention.”

Emma looked between them but seemed fairly unconvinced. Perhaps they weren’t quite the caliber of liar they thought they were. Or maybe Emma was just good at seeing the truth, like Killian was.

Goodness, she hoped not.

There were things Ruby hoped no one could tell about her at a glance. For years she had worked to develop a bit of a devil-may-care air. Mostly to protect herself, but also because deep down she hoped if she could convince everyone that nothing bothered or scared her then maybe she would believe it herself. But no one got to where she was, surviving as she had, without a few scars.

Scars that were old wounds that would never quite whole again. Some people’s scars became hard and they used them as armor. But Ruby’s scars left her with a soft spot for those she recognized herself in, anyone in whom she saw a mirror of her wounds and trauma. She suspected it was why she was drawn to Emma.

As they packed to leave she let Emma set the pace. Ruby was glad to see that the extra rest seemed to have helped her. A little more light in her eyes, her stride a little faster than yesterday.

They followed the road through the woods for hours. This time she and Killian made sure to come up with reasons to take breaks and stop for water periodically. If Emma noticed what they were doing she didn’t mention it.

With their late start it was dusk before they reached the outskirts of the city. Beautiful old manor homes dotted the rolling hills along the wandering river. And in the distance she could see the city of Glowerhaven. Its streets lined with pale stone buildings with small balconies from wide windows. Many had boxes filled with colorful flowers. The city felt lighter than the capital of Misthaven even in the gathering night.

~*~

Emma studied Killian as he walked ahead of her down one of the streets on the outskirts of Glowerhaven. His pace steady, to any onlooker just a gentleman out for a stroll, but his eyes moved carefully over each house they passed. His gaze calculating as he evaluated each of them. She knew he was trying to find them one that was empty, a house no one would notice if they broke into.

She tried to see the world through his eyes. The eyes of the criminal. Every house an opportunity, a simple equation of pros and cons. The wide windows of one, the steep slate roof of the next too dangerous to climb, the lights flickering in the windows of the next two, the movement upstairs in the one after than. Every wall an obstacle, every door a possible entry, every locked gate a mere inconvenience. She wondered how many times he had put this particular skill to use. Just how many places had he carefully cased over the years. Had this been what it had been like the first time he broke into the castle back in Misthaven?

His steps slowed before a large towering mansion and Emma realized that she definitely didn’t have the eyes of a criminal because what looked like a fortress to her brought a small smile to Killian’s lips. His gaze roamed over the chateau with the admiring look one sometimes gave a particularly delicious smelling roast dinner.

Ruby stopped beside him leaning on the low garden wall. “It’ll do nicely,” she said. “Those trees should stop anyone in the other houses from seeing us.”

Emma glanced up and down the road warily, but no one was out this late at night. Already the lamps had been lit, casting warm light onto the worn stones. From where she was standing she could just make out the rooftop of the next house.

“Stay here,” Killian said. Emma was about to ask what exactly they were meant to look like they were doing loitering around outside a grand house, but when she turned to him he was gone. As if he had melted into the shadows and disappeared.

“So he’s just going to break in?” Emma asked Ruby.

Ruby gave her a sidelong glance before nodding. She watched Emma’s reaction and when it seemed like Emmma wasn’t going to judge her Ruby sighed and said, “I hope this place has a closet of nice clothes because otherwise I don’t know how we are going to scrounge up anything that looks fit for a princess.”

Emma doubted there was anything that Ruby and Killian wouldn’t be able to get a hold of. If their plot had required it they would probably steal the craters off the moon. If breaking into a mansion didn’t give them pause, a little thing like clothes ought to be an afterthought. Perhaps there was warehouse here they could bribe their way into, Emma thought with a smile.

A few minutes later Killian reappeared pushing open the groaning front gates for them. “Welcome home, ladies,” he said with a bow gesturing them in.

Emma just shook her head in disbelief at him. She followed Ruby into the courtyard hearing Killian secure the gate behind them. The space was lined with hedges and trees that lent shade to the winding stone pathways that wandered through carefully orchestrated flowerbeds filled with blossoms and buds. At this time of night some had already closed, their fragile petals translucent, a dull shadow of the color within.

But if the gardens had been beautiful then the inside of the chateau was crafted by a master. The marble floors gleamed in the moonlight through the tall windows in the hall. The walls were paneled and gilded, broken only by wide stone fireplaces, and everywhere hung large framed paintings.

“Someone lives here?” Emma breathed in wonder.

“Luckily, they’re not here at the moment,” Killian said.

“Don’t people like this have staff?” Emma asked. “Shouldn’t this place have a groundskeeper or something?”

Killian shrugged. “Apparently not. Some houses like these just get used as weekend getaways by rich foreigners. They get closed down in the winter when the families move to warmer places on the shore.”

He gestured into a room where all the furniture had been covered in large white sheets.

“Can you imagine being so rich that you had multiple houses? In multiple kingdoms?” Ruby muttered.

“Come on,” Killian said waving for them to follow. “There’s something else you should see.”

Emma walked slowly, her steps echoing softly on the floor. She wondered what the person who owned this place had done to become so rich. Perhaps a count, or a wealthy landowner in the country, maybe a banker.

Emma’s attention was pulled away from her thoughts when she heard Ruby squeal from the room up ahead. She hurried to catch up worried something might be wrong but Killian and Ruby stood in the room beside a small stand in the corner with a victrola sitting on it. Emma recognized the round turntable and flaring horn.

“Killian,” Ruby breathed her hands ghosting over the machine as though it were something holy. “Do you think we can use it?”

Killian chuckled. “I don’t think there’s anyone to stop us.”

Ruby smiled so brightly it almost lit up the room.

Killian pointed to a stack of records. “Pick something.”

Ruby immediately set to flipping through them. At last she eased one out from the bottom of the stack. She wound the crank a few times before setting the record on the turntable carefully lowering the arm. The room was filled with the soft strains of a violin playing a floating melody.

Ruby closed her eyes and swayed in time with the notes. Emma didn’t think she’d ever heard the song Ruby had chosen but it had clearly transported her to another place in some other time.

“Emma,” Killian said making her jump. She turned to see his hand outstretched. She frowned at it not understanding.

“I’m trying to ask if you’d like to dance,” he said moving half a step closer.

“Oh, oh,” she said. “Um, I don’t know how.”

Killian’s expression told her he wasn’t going to let her off so easy. “A princess should know,” he said.

He was right. They didn’t know how long she would have to keep up their charade before they got their reward money, or what tests she might have to pass. She knew he was only talking to her to help her learn her role but she hoped accepting his offer might be a way to try to bridge the distance that had formed between them.

She slowly placed her hand in his.

He drew her closer, his hand coming to rest on her waist. The closeness bringing back memories of the train car, mending his wound, the feel of his skin under her fingertips. The moment he had leaned into her, that moment she had thought he might kiss her.

“The waltz is fairly simple,” he murmured, his voice low. “Three steps. One-two-three, one-two-three. I’ll lead, you follow me.”

He paused to allow them to listen to the melody for a moment, but in truth her pounding heart was the only thing she could hear. She watched Killian, waiting for a signal. At last he nodded and took a step at the same time she did, the two of them colliding, pressing together. Emma scrambled back dropping out of his hold.

“Sorry,” she said not meeting his eyes. This was a bad idea.

“It’s okay,” he said bringing his hand just beneath her chin to make her look at him. “But this time let me lead.”

She hesitated for a second before taking his hand again. This time she tried to hear the music, hear the rhythm. One-two-three.

“Just watch me,” Killian said and she met his gaze. This close to him there was an intimacy to the way their eyes held. It sent a shiver through her. She wondered if he could feel it too.

He waited until she was ready and then he took a step. The hand at her back guiding her after him. A few times she stumbled her feet tangling up with his. Each time he kept her upright, each time he assured her she was doing fine.

Her mind kept trying to count the steps, to predict where he would step, and it only seemed to be making it worse. She tried to concentrate, tried to be good at this. She didn’t want him to get frustrated and start ignoring her again. Not now when she knew what it was like to have his arms around her.

The music slowed and she almost wished there were a few more bars, just a few more moments to stay this close to him. He was looking at her with a strange expression, almost like longing, before he slowly leaned in a pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. She stood there a little stunned by the gesture.

He drew back and she looked away, looking around them.

“Where’s Ruby?” she asked noticing they were alone.

“She must have slipped away, probably found one of the bedrooms to sleep in,” he said.

With Killian’s hand still on her waist, the feel of his lips still fresh on her skin, the word bedroom made her stomach flutter nervously.

“I suppose we should stop dancing,” she said and she hoped he didn’t hear the slight tremor in her voice.

He tilted his head a fraction. “We have stopped.”

She blinked. He was right, their feet weren’t moving anymore, but still the room felt like it might be spinning around her. She gripped him a little tighter knowing she was about to cross a line neither of them had discussed. A line they had both been toeing at. Her hand on the back of his neck pulled him down an inch and he didn’t need any more than that as he leaned into her.

His lips brushed against hers as his hand cupped her cheek. Her fingers tangled into the soft hair at the back of his neck as he bent his head to deepen the kiss. Her heart was pounding in her chest. She was floating and all she wanted was to anchor herself in him. The solid feeling of him against her, the soft press of his lips on hers.

He gently pulled back. “We can’t,” he breathed, the words warm against her lips.

She looked up at him in confusion. He seemed to be struggling internally as he moved another inch back, his dropping from her.

“I’m sorry,” she said not sure else to say. Not even sure what she had done wrong.

He shook his head. “Don’t apologize,” he said taking a step back before he turned and left her alone.

She stayed where she was, surprised, both from the kiss and the sudden way he had pulled away. She watched him leave the room not trusting her feet to carry her after him.

When his footsteps died away she let her eyes fall closed. Her hand touched her lips. What had gotten into her? Killian probably didn’t even see her that way. He was just her travel companion, and she was his guarantee of the reward money. Soon they would part ways and never see each other again, right? Then again, he had kissed her first.

She shook away the thought. He wouldn’t have run from her if that had been what he wanted. She had to let it go, a stolen moment.

But with the feeling of his kiss still fresh in her mind she wasn’t sure she could even attempt to go to sleep. She walked a slow circle around the room, her boots clicking on the polished floor with each step. The moonlight shone in through the windows leaving pools of silver that she moved through as she walked. She tried to remember the steps of the waltz Killian had just taught her.

She held her arms up, embracing an imaginary partner. She concentrated on recalling the lilting melody in her mind and she retraced their steps. Step, step, together. One two three. She moved around the room alone, losing herself in the dance. Step, step, turn. She tried to keep her movements even, find the grace of it, and with each step she allowed herself to build the image in her mind. A grand ball, perhaps one held in her honor. The elegant guests and the gorgeous clothes. The handsome prince in her arms, his sure steps guiding her, the warmth in his eyes as he held her. The swirl of the other couples as music filled the air. They all danced around her, a perfect complement to her steps. She could see their smiles as they whirled by her, and for that moment she belonged.

Her boot scuffed the floor making her stumble, her hands flinging out to catch herself before she hit the ground. The other couples, her handsome prince, evaporated from her mind’s eye leaving her once again alone in the empty ballroom.

She let out a breath, half a sigh, half a laugh. Maybe it was ridiculous. All this nonsense about being a princess. It didn’t matter how many people she managed to convince, it would only be a matter of time before she stumbled and revealed herself to be nothing more than a penniless country orphan. Clumsy and inept, nothing of what the King and Queen were hoping for.

She left the ballroom and its phantom melodies and passed the entry to the wide curving stairs that led to the second floor. The landing had thick carpet that muffled her steps as she walked down the hall. She wasn’t sure which of the rooms Ruby or Killian had chosen so she walked until she found an empty room with the door open.

It was small and simply decorated compared to the other rooms in the house she had seen. There was a small dresser and a narrow bed. The only remarkable thing in the whole room was a wide bookshelf filled with volumes, many with worn and wrinkled spines.

She ran her fingers over the books, bumping along the rows tracing the titles. She smiled, this felt more familiar than the rest of the house had. She traced her finger along the spines, she had learned to read over the years but never had she had any real selection of books to read. And yet as she scanned the shelves she couldn’t help but feel as if she knew many of them, their titles bringing to mind the echo of their stories and characters. She shook her head, there was no way she could know all these books. She couldn’t shake the strange feeling of something she had forgotten even as she slipped off her boots and curled into the soft sheets on the bed.

Her sleep was restless, shadows creeping after her in her dreams. She was running from something, her legs burning with exhaustion, the only thing pushing her forward was a dark fear gripping her heart. If she stopped she knew she would die. They were coming for her. She had to run. She kept seeing a glowing red circle, its awful light coming from some strange round object. Each time she saw it it felt as though she couldn’t breathe, like her strength was ebbing away. No matter how far she ran she still felt as though that glowing red light was there, like a parasite eating away at her. She knew if she didn’t fight then it would swallow her completely and there would be nothing left of her. But there wasn’t anything she could do and cold fear began to fill her instead. She tried to wrestle free of the glowing light but it was keeping her trapped. She could hear herself screaming, desperate for someone to stop it before it drained her to nothing.

She woke to hands holding her, and she jerked away disoriented, her eyes flew around the room but there was no red light, only the bookshelves, and Killian sitting on the edge of the bed beside her.

“Killian?” she said surprised. His gentle touch so different from the horrible dream she had woken from.

“It was just a nightmare,” he said.

“A nightmare?” she said.

He nodded. “I heard you call out, I thought you might be in trouble.”

“In my dream I was trying to get away from something,” she told him trying to piece the dream back together.

He shifted beside her. “It’s okay, you’re safe now.”

“There was this glowing light,” she said trying to hold the image in her mind.

“A candle?” Killian asked.

“No, it was red, glowing red,” Emma said, she could see it more clearly. “It was coming from an object, round with intricate parts, like gears. It was trying to swallow me, erase me.”

She frowned even as she said the words, it was strange how dreams made little sense once you were awake. How could a glowing red light hurt her? She glanced up at Killian but he was staring at her his face pale. He looked as though he had seen a ghost.

“Are you okay?” she asked him reaching out.

He pulled back from her, just an inch, barely noticeable. Most people would have missed it, but for days she had been so keenly aware of him. She wondered if she had done something to upset him again. Was he mad she had woken him, and for such a silly dream? He was still staring at her as if he had never seen her before.

“I’m sorry,” she said, not sure what else to say.

He cleared his throat. “I should go,” he said gruffly. He shifted making to stand up, pulling away from her again, as he had on the road, as he had in the ballroom. She reached out to hold his arm. She didn’t want to lose him this time.

“Wait,” she said. He froze his eyes jumping from her hand on him to her face. She hesitated, suddenly nervous, until at last the word came out barely more than a whisper, “Stay.”

“Emma,” he said warily.

“Please,” she said. “Stay.”

He took a deep, slightly shaking, breath and then he sat back against the headboard. “Until you fall asleep,” he said.

She slowly settled back onto the pillows trying to get comfortable, but the lingering fear from the dream and the warmth of Killian beside made it hard to relax enough to possibly fall back asleep.

“What are you going to do?” she asked him to break the silence and distract herself from thoughts of glowing lights and strange faces.

He turned to look at her. “What do you mean?”

“With the reward money? What will you do with it?” she asked.

He looked away from her into the corner, his gaze taking on a far off look. She wondered if he was imagining piles of riches, or a castle to call his own, a ship to travel the seas. She supposed he would stay with Ruby, the two of them going on more thrilling adventures. The thought made her a little sad, however this ended they would leave her behind.

“I don’t know,” he said at last. “I haven’t really thought that far ahead.”

His words held the shadow of a lie to her ears and she fought the urge to roll her eyes. She had never known him not to be a least a step ahead of everyone else. And she would have thought he would have plenty of ideas about how to spend any sum of money. “You must have some dream,” she said.

A small smile pulled at his lips but his eyes were filled with a profound sadness she didn’t understand. “Money can’t buy every dream,” he said. “There are some things that will always be beyond my reach.”

There was something about the way he said it that made her reach out. Her hand found his, holding on, a small tether anchoring him to her. His fingers slowly returned the pressure, gripping her, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand. She closed her eyes concentrating on that feeling, the warmth, and at last she felt herself relax. The last thing she heard was his voice, barely a whisper. A promise that echoed in her drowsy mind like a long forgotten memory.

“I’ll keep you safe.”

She woke to the sound of birds chirping and bright morning sunlight pouring in through the sheer curtains at the windows. She took a deep breath glad she had slept dreamlessly the rest of the night. She spent a moment caught in that peaceful state between sleeping and waking, warm and comfortable when something shifted behind her, a weight tightening around her waist.

Emma’s eyes flew open and she turned slowly onto her back careful to not jostle the arm lying over her. She turned to see Killian still sleeping beside her. She couldn’t stop the smile that pulled at her lips. He had stayed and at some point during the night they had pulled each other closer.

She liked the way his hair sat unevenly, mussed from a night of sleep. It was a struggle not to reach out and brush a few strands back from where they had fallen over his forehead, but she didn’t want to wake him.

As much as a small part of her wanted to stay in that bed all morning, her stomach growled reminding her how little they had eaten in the last day. Carefully she slipped out from the circle of Killian’s arms, pressing the smallest brush of a kiss to his cheek in thanks for keeping his promise last night. He didn’t stir and with one last glance at him, she left to try to find something to eat.

Last night the mansion had been beautiful, draped in silvers and grays of night and moonlight, but in the daylight it came alive in color. The floors were a rich mahogany, plush red carpet covered the hallway and stairs, and everywhere the greens of the trees and a rainbow of blossoms could be seen in the gardens outside the windows.

She walked past the ballroom they had been in the night before heading toward the back of the house trying to find something that might resemble a kitchen. In a mansion like this she figured it wouldn’t look anything like any kitchen she had ever seen. The hallways seemed to go on forever, and twice she found herself back at the same place having made a circle without realizing. She had almost given up hope of finding the kitchen, the pantry, or any food when something caught her eye.

It was just a flash of red, a small smear of paint, a small point on a large painting hanging from one of the walls. She paused to look at it, taking in the heavy golden frame and the portrait of a couple. They were a bit of an odd match, and yet they had been painted to look like they had been in love. The woman was beautiful, her brown hair pulled back, her gold dress floating down around her. It was the man who had made her stop. He wore a bit of a sneer as he stared with flat black eyes out of the frame at her. His clothes were a patterned leather that reminded a bit of snakeskin, like a second skin to his reptilian features, even his complexion was a bit sallow. But it was what hanging around his neck that had grabbed her attention. There sitting against his sternum was a heavy amulet, a set of interlocking gears, and it seemed to glow with faint red light. Emma stared at it feeling goosebumps creep up her arms, it was the exact amulet from her dream.

“Emma?” Ruby’s voice called as she rounded a corner. “Oh, there you are. We were just starting to worry. What are you-”

Her words faded as she came to stand beside Emma looking up at the painting with her. The teacup in her hand clattered to the ground and smashed.

“Oh my god,” she breathed, her expression full of fear.

“What is it?” Emma asked.

“I know whose house this is,” she said already grabbing Emma’s hand. “We need to find Killian.”

Ruby pulled her along at a run as she wove down the hallways. Emma tripped after her trying to get her balance as they ran skidding on the gleaming floors.

“Ruby!” Emma said in exasperation. “What is going on?”

Ruby didn’t slow down only gripped her more tightly. “We need to leave right now,” she told Emma.

“Killian!” Ruby called as they burst out into the entryway.

Emma almost breathed a sigh of relief when she saw him standing halfway across the entryway, until she noticed the strange way he had his hands raised. And they got closer she saw the group of men in the entryway and the pistol pointed at Killian.

“Good of you to join us, Dearies,” a voice said chilling Emma’s blood.

The man holding the pistol was short in stature, and as he moved his steps were uneven, a limp he tried to hide with a silver cane. Emma didn’t need to look up at his face to recognize him as the man from the painting she had just found. A troop of blackguards was fanned out behind him and at once she knew that it was Gold, the ruthless leader of the Industrialists. And they had just been found breaking into his home.


	6. Glowing Dim as an Ember

Killian moved restlessly about the small windowless room. Over the last few hours he had learned that it was twenty-three paces around the square room, that each wall had 162 stones, and that the ceiling was approximately eight feet high. The room was lit with three sconces each with two gas fixtures. Twice he had heard footsteps above him, and taking the slightly musty air into account it was reasonable to assume he was in some sort of basement.

But for all that he had knew about the room he still had no idea what had happened to Ruby or Emma since they were separated. He didn’t know if they were nearby, possibly locked into similar rooms, or if they were even still in the mansion. No one had entered the room since he had been shoved inside and he hated that he didn’t know what they were planning to do with him or any of them.

He growled in frustration pounding a fist into the thick metal door. The sound echoed dully and faded into silence. No answer. No change.

Trapped. He was trapped. He should have seen this coming. Maybe if they had been more vigilant. It had been a weak moment, a small pleasure he hadn’t been able to deny, to stay with Emma last night. He should have set watches, they should never have let themselves think they were safe. Now because of his mistakes they were all caught in Gold’s cruel grip.

He had been distracted for days. Seeing Emma’s magic had thrown him, an unbelievable display that had shocked him and left him feeling like he’d missed a step. A lurch in his stomach like he was falling with no end, nothing anchoring him to solid ground.

He’d only seen one other person do magic like that before. And everything since the attack on the train had only made it harder to ignore what was right in front of him. The dreams she described, her magic, the ease with which she picked up what they taught her, the way she had described the amulet from her nightmare.

It was too much of a coincidence. There was only one explanation. His mind railed against the impossible thought even as he knew it was true: Emma actually was the lost Princess of Misthaven.

Killian blew out a sigh. The absurdity of it almost made him want to laugh. For over a week he had been in the company of royalty. The heir to the throne of his homeland. A ghost from a time long ago. And then, when she needed it, he had failed to protect her, again.

He rubbed his hand over his face. They were in such deep shit. Not only had they fallen into Gold’s trap, but they had delivered the Princess right to him, the target of his crusade for over a decade, the symbol of everything he had worked to crush.

Their only hope for Emma to survive this was that Gold never find out who she really was, no matter what.

~*~

Emma was in some kind of laboratory, elaborate machines lined the workbenches around her. Scattered about were piles of gears, scrap metal, and spectacles with multiple lens that could be lowered presumably for magnification. Perhaps this was a place Gold had spent hours creating his inventions, or even more likely where he had others do it for him. She wondered what he might have threatened talented craftsmen with to get them to work for him. What dark secrets had been traded for favors within these walls.

Emma glared at the man seated across the table from her. One of Gold’s men. He wasn’t a blackguard, or at least he wasn’t wearing the dark uniform, but that didn’t make him less menacing. He seemed to match the worn and industrial feel of the room, his features were sharp and grizzled. And his scowl carved deep lines across his forehead as though it was the expression he wore the most often, and now it was chiseled permanently onto his face.

“I’m not sure you realize the trouble you are in, Miss,” he said gruffly. Emma didn’t reply, her jaw clenching as she watched his thumb drum on the table. A ring flashed in the light where it sat against his knuckle. Something about the twisted band seemed familiar but she couldn’t place it before he spoke again.

“Our world is governed by laws, and those laws were put in place to keep everyone safe.” Again he paused, perhaps waiting from some response from her. After a moment he continued, “When those laws are broken it represents a danger to everyone. It weakens our society and perpetuates fear.”

Emma wasn’t in the mood for a lecture, especially not from the people that had toppled their society and continued to perpetuate fear.

“I’m not sure what this has to do with me,” she told him bluntly.

A flicker of emotion flashed in his eyes. She wasn’t sure if it was anger, frustration, or disbelief. He straightened in his chair leaning a little closer to her.

“You were found in the company of known criminals,” he told her. “That makes you complicit.”

This wasn’t going the way Emma had hoped. This wasn’t an overworked provincial country deputy who could be easily persuaded to turn a blind eye. She ran quickly through her options, trying to predict where each possible lie would lead the interrogation.

“I just met them,” she said with a shrug that was more nonchalant than she felt. “I had no idea who they were.”

He didn’t look convinced. “You’re telling me that you didn’t think, for even a second, that the people who smuggled you illegally over the border, who broke into a private home, might be criminals?”

Emma blew out a breath. “They told me they could help me travel out of Misthaven, I didn’t know they meant illegally.”

“It didn’t seem strange that you had to chase down a train and jump on board? Most people board trains at stations, they have tickets, travel papers.”

His patronizing tone made Emma’s fist clench, she pushed down the desire to punch him. She wondered vaguely what would happen if she reached over and grabbed the telescope sitting on the table beside her and decked him with it.

“Like I said, I didn’t know how they were planning to cross the border,” she said.

“How did you learn about the train? The route? The schedule?” he asked, the questions coming in rapid succession.

“The schedules of the trains aren’t a secret,” Emma said. “Any merchant knows when trains leave the city.”

He seemed to pounce on that. “So a merchant helped you? Give me a name.”

Emma frowned. “There was no merchant. I don’t have a name to give you because there isn’t one to give. I’m just trying to say that there are people who know the schedules. And if anyone knows the schedules then you can bet that information gets sold to criminals.”

A grin spread over his lips before she even realized her mistake. “So now you’re admitting they are criminals?”

Emma fought to keep her expression impassive as she struggled for an answer that wouldn’t incriminate them all. “I’m saying I don’t know how they learned about the train, but it wouldn’t be impossible for anyone to find out.”

Again there was that flicker behind his eyes, this time it was more ruthless. It seemed he was getting tired of this conversation too. But before he could say anything else the door to the room opened again, the wide deadbolts sliding back, and Gold walked in.

Emma swallowed as he came to a stop. His gaze seared over her and she shivered. The intensity made her feel as if he were looking straight through her, as if he were reading her thoughts. It sent fear prickling up her arms and tickling at the back of her neck.

His lips pulled up into a twisted grin. “So,” he said his voice between a rasp and a hiss, “if you aren’t partners with Mr. Jones and Miss Lucas then who exactly are you?”

~*~

Ruby hated prison cells. She had spent numerous nights behind bars over the years. Small run-ins with the authorities. It never stuck for long. She had friends in strategic places, a knowledge of what bribes would open which locks. Killian was always there waiting for her. He was always the first face she saw when she released. He used to joke she was his very own bad penny, but time and again he kept coming back for her.

She sighed leaning back in the plush armchair in the cozy study. This might have been the most luxurious place she had been locked up in, but it was still a prison. No antique furniture, crackling fire in the gate, or steaming cup of tea could hide that fact. She wasn’t so easily bought.

In hindsight there was an irony to their situation. What were the odds that the house they had chosen to break into would belong to Gold? It strained probability. Of all the mistakes she’d made over the years, those momentary lapses in concentration that landed her in tight spots, this had to be the dumbest. And still there wasn’t any way they could have known.

She wondered where the others were. Killian and Emma. She hoped they were together, wherever they were. This solitary confinement thing was starting to make her fidget. She hated just staring at the walls waiting for something to happen. And she had been waiting too long.

Why had no one come to talk to her yet? Where was Gold? What was he planning to do with them? Too many questions and no way to get answers. She hated uncertainty.

In Misthaven it had been fairly simple. There were still laws and procedures that had to be followed. Charges and sentencing. It was a corrupt system, sure, but it was predictable. But they weren’t in Misthaven anymore. Here they were off the edge of the map. Locked in Gold’s private home, there was no oversight, no system to govern his judgement. He could do anything to them and no one would ever know. No one would ever even know to miss them. They would simply disappear, like so many others.

The thought sent a chill through her.

They were completely at his mercy. There was nothing stopping Gold from locking them away, or worse, a thorn in his side finally vanquished. They had no way to save themselves. They had nothing to bargain with, nothing that he wanted.

~*~

“Well, perhaps I’ll tell you what I know about you, _Emma_ ,” Gold continued lingering on her name. “I know you fell in with some bad company.”

Emma remained still, not trusting herself not to betray all of them under his scrutinizing gaze. Her heart was pounding in her chest, but outwardly she tried to keep her breaths slow and even.

“People like Jones and Lucas, they are easy to be enchanted by. They are deceptive by nature and they profit on others falling for their smiles and charms. But it is only that, an illusion.”

Emma knew this tactic was a simple manipulation, and yet Gold had crafted it to perfectly prod at all her insecurities, apply pressure on old wounds, and she couldn’t help the shadow of doubt that slithered into her thoughts at his double edged words. She had known the kind of people Killian and Ruby were, she had known they were dangerous and still she had allowed herself to be pulled in by them, into their plan, like gravity. But maybe that was all it was: carefully timed smiles, well chosen kind words, magnetic personalities and a lonely girl so desperate to be wanted that she had almost fooled herself into believing their scam. If she was completely honest, there had been moments she had almost believed she could actually be the princess.

But wouldn’t it make more sense if it had all been a trick? Just a way for them to score a huge sum of money. What did they care if they crushed a random girl in the end. _Just concentrate on the reasons you’re doing this_ , those had been Killian’s words. The ends justify the means. And if he was concentrating on an enormous payout would he willing to sacrifice her on the way?

“I’ve known of Killian Jones for years,” Gold said. “He’s a cunning lad. Always some plot, some gamble, some adventure. That’s what drives him, the thrill of the game. He doesn’t care about the collateral damage: the people’s lives he ruins with his actions, the people who are left behind. He has cycled through many partners, discarding them as soon as they were no more use to him.”

Her thoughts went to Robin and his men, abandoned at the border. A stepping stone in his plan, used and then left behind.

“He knows nothing of loyalty,” Gold finished.

Emma frowned. The words echoed dully in her mind, slowly losing their meaning as they repeated over and over. But unlike the rest these didn’t ring quite true, a crack in an elegant argument. She didn’t need her uncanny ability of sensing lies to know it. Gold might have known Killian for years, but she had known him long enough. He had shown himself to be courageous, smart, selfless. And beyond anything she knew he was loyal. All the stories Ruby had told her of the way they had grown up never giving up on each other, the way they continued to protect each other. The way he had found a family with Ruby. It was the most striking thing about him.

“You don’t know them. They are not bad people,” Emma said quietly.

Gold’s eyes narrowed as he stared down at her. “What?”

“They have been helping others for years,” Emma said more confidently. “They were only trying to help me find my family.”

“Trying to help you?” Gold sneered picking up one of the twisted pieces of metal from a workbench and turning it over in his hands. “You mean by attempting to pass you off as the Princess of Misthaven?”

Emma blanched. This wasn’t some probing guess, she could tell Gold knew the truth, the entire truth. Only the three of them had known their plan. A sense of dread spread through her. If Gold knew then it meant one of the other two must have told him.

“Who told you about that?” she asked.

“I have my sources. I like to be well informed” Gold said cryptically.

But there wasn’t anyone else. The only logical answer was it had to have been Killian or Ruby. She didn’t know what would have made them give up that secret, but could Emma truly blame them if they had done what they had to in order to survive?

They were all in a perilous situation, captured, Killian and Ruby at the whim of a man who hated them. What would she have given to protect any family she had?

She leaned back in her chair. “So you know about our plan,” she said. “We slipped out of Misthaven in an attempt to get the reward money.”

Gold eyed her curiously. “And that’s all it was? Just a way to steal money?”

“There aren’t many ways to earn money in Misthaven anymore,” Emma said icily. Fury flashed through Gold’s expression. She knew she shouldn’t provoke him but it had been too tempting.

“You didn’t care that you’d be swindling the royals?” he asked her.

Her brows pulled down. “We’re not loyalists of the royal family if that’s what you’re asking.”

Gold tilted his head a little. “That’s interesting,” he said and it seemed like he meant it, though he didn’t elaborate.

Emma didn’t know or care why he might find that interesting. If Gold knew their plan and any hope of pulling it off was gone, then she at least wanted to see the others.

“Where are Killian and Ruby?” she asked him.

He seemed a little surprised at her question.

“I’d have thought you wouldn’t be so worried about them after learning they had betrayed you,” he said.

Emma stared at him for a moment before shaking her head. “They haven’t betrayed me. If cooperating with your interrogation was what they needed to do to survive, that isn’t a betrayal to me.”

Gold was staring at her with an unreadable expression, unreadable but not blank. She could see him forming a plan.

“You seem quite fond of them,” he observed.

She could sense the trap in his words. She worked to keep her expression neutral.

“I want to see them now,” she said.

“That isn’t how this works. They are in the official custody of the Industrialists now.”

“What does that mean?” she asked him.

“They will be dealt with accordingly for their crimes,” he told her mildly. His tone immediately belied by the way he grabbed a pair of pliers from the bench and gripped an edge of the piece of metal in his hand. He pulled back, wrenching off a chunk, the metal groaning loudly as it tore free.

His implication was clear. Emma’s fingers clenched into a fist hard enough her nails dug into her palms.

Gold seemed to notice her expression. “It won’t be anything they don’t deserve.”

“They haven’t done anything wrong,” Emma said firmly.

Gold set the ruined twist of metal down impassively and sat opposite her. “That isn’t for you to decide.”

“Who does decide? You?” she asked him. “You’re the leader of the Industrialists.”

Gold studied her with his dark gaze. She felt again as if he were staring into her, dissecting her piece by piece, able to see the hidden inner workings of her mind as if she were nothing more than the clockwork machines around them.

“I am,” he agreed. “And as such it is my job to protect the interests of the Industrial Guild.”

His exact wording caught her attention. This wasn’t about justice or crime and punishment. This was about Gold getting what he wanted.

“The Industrial Guild is _that_ interested in Killian and Ruby?” she asked. “Seems to me like a waste of resources to have tracked them so far from Misthaven. There must be something you want more than them.”

A crooked smile pulled slowly at his lips, a hungry glint in his eyes. “Indeed.”

“Then let them go,” Emma said seizing on his admission. “You don’t need them.”

Gold looked at her for a long moment. She had the unnerving sense that despite everything, despite the fact she almost felt like she was winning, she had ended up exactly where he wanted her. Cat and mouse, and he was closing in.

“All favors come with a price,” Gold told her at last, “If I do this for you, you’ll need to do something for me in return.”

Emma met his eyes. “What do you want from me?”

His smirk widened, his expression victorious. It made her wary of what kind of deal he would propose.

“The reappearance of the royals has been a growing irritation for me,” he said.

Emma marveled at his word choice: irritation. As if Kings and Queens were just a mild nuisance to him, nothing more than an itch in a hard to reach spot, a fly buzzing in his ear, or sunlight shining into his eyes. It made her aware again of just who this man before her was, that he had toppled dynasties and he had bent and twisted countless people to his will.

“Rumors have reached Misthaven about the King and Queen, unsettling whispers that are upsetting the people. It’s destabilizing what we have worked for,” he continued.

“An unstable Misthaven,” Emma said sardonically, unable to stop herself, “goodness, what must that be like?”

Gold straightened in his chair his cold eyes piercing her. “I was under the impression you wanted my help,” he said icily.

Emma clenched her jaw biting down any response. He was right, she needed him. She needed to help Killian and Ruby.

“Good girl,” he said. The words made her skin crawl. Condescending and patronizing. It took everything in her to stay still and quiet. He watched her reaction carefully as if the words had been a test of her compliance. Emma wondered if his every word and action was a test, always gauging everyone in the room. She was beginning to understand how he had come to power so quickly.

“There is a ball being held tomorrow night for the royal family and their exiled supporters. Their disillusioned and misguided aim is to garner support from within Glowerhaven. They profess a goal of returning Misthaven to a monarchy and regaining control, but what they are really doing is trying to get Misthaven to regress. They plan to disrupt trade between Misthaven and the other kingdoms, to cut off resources needed for manufacturing. If that happens many workers and their families will suffer. I can’t allow our people to be attacked in this way. After over a decade hiding from their responsibilities and guilt, freeloading off the people of foreign lands these out of touch royals presume to know what is best for Misthaven, the country they abandoned. We are a proud and strong people who do not need an outdated monarchy staging a coup and ripping the power of democratic voice from us.”

He spoke to her as if they were both of the working class of Misthaven. As if they both would be personally affected by whatever sanctions or political maneuvers Glowerhaven or the royal family made. As if they weren’t sitting in his opulent mansion in a foreign country, as if he wasn’t the one who had ripped the power and voice from the people, as if he wasn’t the one who had attacked Misthaven and everything it had held dear. Every word he spoke was gilded exploitation.

“What is it you want me to do?” she asked bluntly.

“I need you to take the royal family out of the equation before they cause any more damage,” he said.

Emma blinked.

“I’m sorry,” she said holding up a hand as she tried make sense of what he said. “Are you asking me to kill them?”

Gold leaned in closer. “Think of it as a life for a life. You asked me to release two convicted criminals. My offer is a stay of execution for each of them. Buy their freedom with the lives of the King and Queen.”

“So I murder the King and Queen,” Emma clarified, “and you will let Killian and Ruby go? No strings attached? You won’t hunt them down, or press any charges?”

“That is my deal,” Gold said his eyes watching her closely.

Emma ran a hand over her face. It was insane. She was actually contemplating murder. Her thoughts running furiously as she tried wrap her mind around it. But with no leverage and no other options she met his gaze.

“I accept.”

Gold nodded, like he had always known that would be the outcome. As if she were predictable, a foregone conclusion in his design. He seemed to be already enjoying the idea of having her be his puppet.

“So how does this work?” Emma asked him. “I just stand outside the entrance of this ball until the King and Queen show up and then I kill them?”

Gold shook his head. “No, I’ll get you inside the ball.”

He gestured to the guard in the corner of the room who passed him a small case. Gold set the case on the table and opened it. He pulled out an embossed invitation listing the information for the ball, and then slid the box closer to Emma. She peered inside and there, sitting in a bed of satin padding, was a shining dagger with jagged blade.

He lifted the blade and laid it on the table with soft thud. “What exactly you do once inside is up to you.”

Emma eyed the blade warily.

“And what about Killian and Ruby? How do I know you’ll keep your word?” she asked.

Gold shrugged. “Keep them with you. They’ll accompany you to the ball. If you hold up your part of the bargain they go free. If you fail, well, I suggest you don’t fail.”

Emma glared at him picking up the dagger and sliding into the inside pocket of her jacket. “I want to see them now.”

Gold stood and waved her to the door. “Be my guest.”

~*~

Ruby looked up at a sudden noise coming from beyond the door. A scrape and the sound of a key in the lock. She stood quickly glancing around for anything that might be used as a weapon: the cooling tea in the pot, the iron lamp on the side table. She tensed, readying for a fight.

The door creaked open and one of the blackguards waved Killian inside before shutting and locking the door once again. Ruby sighed in relief.

“Killian,” she breathed.

He looked around the room, eyes skimming over the plush furniture and paneled walls. “Where’s Emma?”

Ruby frowned. “I thought she might be with you.”

Killian shook his head. “I was alone. If she isn’t with you then we need to get out of here and find her.”

“No use,” Ruby said. “I’ve been thorough while I waited. There’s no way out of here unless you can climb through fire and up a hot chimney.”

Killian glanced at the fireplace as if seriously considering it for a moment. In the end he walked over to the door and jostled the handle studying the lock. He carefully pulled out two of the lock picks hidden within his mechanical hand and slid them into the lock.

Ruby pursed her lips. She had never seen a lock like the one in the door, and she knew Killian hadn’t either. She had a feeling it was useless, but she bit back the words because hope was a terrible thing to crush, and she knew he would need to exhaust every possibility before he gave up.

Watching him work was what she imagined it might have been like to watch Michelangelo or one of the great sculptors at work. The way his hands moved in small, precise movements, the clink of the tumblers within the lock. But instead of a masterpiece whittled from marble, she watched as with each minute a little more of Killian’s patience and confidence was chipped away until he threw down the picks with a curse and laid his forehead against the door in defeat.

“Well, if you’re done wasting time with that,” Ruby said gesturing to the door.

Killian scowled over his shoulder at her.

Ruby picked up the teapot with a smile. “Want some tea while we wait?”

Killian scoffed rolling his eyes. “I prefer coffee.”

Ruby shrugged. “Prisoners can’t be choosers.”

The word prisoners sobered Killian. His worried gaze meeting Ruby’s, vulnerable in a way he rarely allowed himself to be. She could see the same fear in his eyes she had been trying to push down herself. Fear that at any moment the blackguards or Gold might reappear, something that would definitely end badly for them. At least he was here with her again, they’d face whatever came next together.

The lock clicked behind them, the door handle turning. Killian stood quickly placing himself a half step between Ruby and the door. Ruby tightened her grip on the teapot. They waited as the door opened a second time.

A slim figure was pushed into the room, stumbling and falling to the floor, her blond hair spilling around her.

“Stay here,” the blackguard in the hall ordered before slamming the door shut.

Emma gingerly pushed herself up. She looked at each of them carefully as she stood.

“Are you okay?” she asked them. “Gold didn’t hurt you?”

“Hurt?” Ruby repeated. “No, I’m fine. They locked me in this room and offered me tea. Bored maybe, but not hurt.”

“They didn’t interrogate you?” Emma asked looking surprised.

Ruby shook her head. “No one’s even come to talk to me, not until you two showed up.”

They both looked at Killian. “I was alone,” he said.

Emma’s eyes lingered on each or them for a long moment before a vaguely sick expression slowly settled over her features as she backed away from them and sank heavily into a nearby chair. Her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“Emma?” Killian asked. “What’s going on?”

Emma didn’t respond but her face was pale in the flickering light of the fire and she looked close to passing out.

“Did they do something to you?” Ruby said sitting in the chair beside Emma.

“Was it the blackguards?” Killian asked kneeling down in front of Emma.

Emma blinked at them before swallowing thickly. “It was Gold,” she said quietly.

“Gold?” Killian repeated the word a low growl. “What did he do?”

She stared down at her hands in her lap for a long moment before she responded. “We made a deal.”

Ruby’s heart dropped into her stomach. Gold had a reputation for making deals that always seemed to benefit him and leave the other party worse off than before.

“What deal did he force you to make?” Killian asked placing a gentle hand on Emma’s knee.

“He knew,” she told them still not quite meeting their eyes. “He knew about our plan. Impersonating the princess, finding the King and Queen in Glowerhaven. I thought one of you had told him.”

Killian shook his head. “That doesn’t make sense. No one questioned us.”

Emma frowned. “He knew things, things about each of us.”

Killian swallowed, his expression worried.

“What did he know about you?” he asked Emma.

She shook her head. “It felt like he knew all my insecurities. He knew everything we were planning.”

Ruby frowned looking at Killian. “But if none of us told him then how did he know? No one else knew.”

Killian sat back on his heels.

“Robin,” Killian said softly breaking the silence. Ruby looked up at him.

“What?”

“Robin told Gold,” Killian said. “If it wasn’t us, it had to be him.”

Ruby shook her head. “He didn’t know what we were planning.”

Killian gave her a skeptical look. “He’s smart enough to have worked it out. And he’s smart enough to know what that information might be worth to Gold.”

“No,” Ruby said firmly. “Robin wouldn’t do that. Not to us.”

Killian didn’t look convinced. Ruby knew the arguments he’d make: that they didn’t know if Robin had been arrested, or worse. They didn’t know what he might have had to do to escape the blackguards at the border. What wouldn’t he do if they threatened Roland. But she had known Robin longer than Killian had and she knew he wouldn’t betray them.

“It wasn’t Robin, though I think he did manage to work out most of our plan,” Emma said. “I think it was that member of his crew, Will. He heard Robin and I talking that night we camped in the woods. He had a ring, at the time I didn’t think anything of it. But then tonight one of Gold’s men had the same ring, I couldn’t figure out why the ring had seemed familiar until you just mentioned Robin.”

“Will would definitely sell us out to save his own his skin,” Killian said darkly. “Son of a bitch.”

It made sense. Will had always been a bit of weasel. Since he joined Robin and the Merry Men he had been more interested in lining his own pockets and helping himself than helping the cause. If he had leaked information to Gold about their plan, about their location at the border, she wondered what he other intel he might have leaked about the Merry Men and the supply underground in Misthaven.

“If Gold knows our plan, then he knows about the reward money,” Ruby said thinking through the ramifications. If Gold had convinced Emma to cut him in on any or all of the reward money it would supply money straight to the Industrialists, and strengthen Gold’s power.

“Emma,” Killian said his voice low as he looked at Emma, “what deal did you make with Gold?”

~*~

Emma looked between Killian and Ruby, the warm light from the fire so different from the stark laboratory she had been in with Gold. There it had felt like she had no options, no choices. Here with their kind and worried faces she was ashamed of what she had agreed to.

Even after all the time Gold had spent trying to convince her they were hardened criminals she knew they wouldn’t easily condone murdering a king and queen. And still there was nothing else she could do if she wanted to save their lives.

She pushed down all the warring emotions within her and tried to keep her expression from betraying her under Killian’s piercing gaze. She hoped his habit of seeing through her was currently distracted with everything else going on.

“Gold wants a meeting with the King and Queen,” she told them the lie rolling easily off her tongue. “He said the rumor that the royals are trying to return to power is creating problems in Misthaven and he wants to address any complications with them directly.”

Emma waited for their reaction, nearly holding her breath.

“Why can’t he set up a meeting himself?” Ruby asked.

“Well, he did try to murder them and ran them out of their own country,” Emma said. “They probably wouldn’t be that receptive to granting him any favors. But I can get an audience with the King and Queen and arrange a meeting.”

“You think you can get the King and Queen to agree to meet with Gold?” Killian asked his tone unsure.

Emma nodded trying to look more confident than she felt. “Our plan was to convince them I’m the princess anyway. If they believe I’m their daughter I’ll be able orchestrate a meeting with Gold.”

“Did he tell you where the King and Queen are?” Ruby asked.

“Gold said there’s a ball tomorrow night the royals will be attending. He gave me an invitation that will get us inside.”

She passed the invitation to Killian. He looked it over carefully his expression veiled.

“So you set up the meeting and then what?” Killian asked her setting the invitation aside. “What are you getting out of this deal?”

“Gold will let us go,” she told them.

“Just like that?” he asked his expression held a hint of suspicion. Suspicion she hoped was for Gold and not her story.

She nodded. “That’s the deal.”

“You’ll be meeting the King and Queen tomorrow night?” Ruby asked. “That’s much quicker than I was hoping. Do you think we’ll be ready?”

Their eyes turned to Emma. She gave a half shrug. “We have to be.”

Ruby ran a hand through her hair listing off the things Emma still should learn or go over before any face to face with the King and Queen. Emma wasn’t listening though. It didn’t matter anyway. She didn’t need to convince anyone anymore, the only thing she needed now was the dagger tucked into her jacket.


	7. Painted Wings

 

Emma brushed her hands down the glimmering fabric of the dress. It was more elegant than anything she had ever worn. She was draped in yards of silks and satins embedded with crystals that winked in the evening sun slanting across the floor. She stared at herself in the mirror. **  
**

The person staring back her was certainly a sight. She stood straighter than Emma would have just months ago. Her cheeks a little fuller, her hair had a little shine to it. It fell in cascading waves down her shoulders, swept back by beaded pins. Emma blinked at her reflection, gone was the scrappy orphan girl, someone else was here now beneath all these jewels and finery. Funny how it was Gold who had gotten her closer to looking the part of the princess than all the time with Killian and Ruby had.  

The thought of Gold made her heart grow heavy with the weight of her bargain. She moved to the window, her dress murmuring gently with each step. The large glass panes ran nearly from the floor to the ceiling. She let her eyes fall closed, the soft warmth of the sunlight calming her nerves. If she could have stayed in that golden moment forever she would have, never having to act on either of the conflicting promises she had made: to become a princess or a murderer.

From the window she could see Glowerhaven spread out before her. Rooftops and chimneys arranged in rows down the streets and avenues. She watched the people wander by, women in colored coats and men with top hats and canes. It was a sort of foreign fairytale, nothing like the places she had known growing up. She hadn’t known there was anything like this anywhere in the world. No one seemed in a hurry, there was no desperate look in their eyes. Perhaps this was what Misthaven should have been, maybe what it would have if the King and Queen had remained in power. A King and Queen she would see tonight. A King and Queen who had a daughter they had lost. A lost girl perhaps at this moment questioning everything.

“Emma.”

She startled at the sound, her hand flying up to her hammering heart as she turned. Killian stood alone just inside the door she hadn’t even heard open.

“Killian,” she breathed with a small laugh at her own over reaction. “I was afraid you might be Gold.”

Killian stood unmoving as his eyes swept over her. His gaze at last coming to meet hers. There was something like awe in his expression for a moment before he seemed to come back to himself.

“I’m sorry,” he said gesturing over his shoulder. “I did knock.”

She waved off his apology and when he took a few steps further into the room she noticed his clothes. Clearly, she wasn’t the only one to have undergone a transformation.

He wore a long jacket a bit like his signature leather greatcoat but this one was softer, better tailored, and it made his shoulders look broader. His usual dark waistcoat had been changed for one with intricate embroidery. There was a black glove over his mechanical hand. His hair was combed and tousled in a way that made her want to run her hands through it.

“You look…” she trailed off failing to find the right word. He looked like a true gentleman.

“I know,” he said with a smirk and she rolled her eyes.

He joined her beside the window, the golden sunlight bringing out a little red tinge to the stubble along his jaw she hadn’t noticed before. He reached out, the smallest hesitation slowing his hand before he ran a lock of her her hair through his fingers. They watched each strand slip from him falling back onto her shoulder. When his eyes lifted to hers there was such tender emotion within them that she glanced away feeling the heat of a blush touch her cheeks as she fussed a bit unnecessarily with her skirts.

The clock above the fireplace began to chime breaking the electric feeling of the air between them. He took a small step back clearing his throat.

“I suppose it’s time to go,” Emma said looking at the clock with a frown. The time had been slipping away from her too quickly, hours rushing past, marching her ever closer to a decision there would be no coming back from.

“Actually there’s something I need to tell you first,” he told her fiddling with a glove, looking suddenly nervous. “I’ve been putting it off I suppose. I should have told you days ago, but-”

“It’s okay,” she cut him off gently. “What is it?”

He hesitated, his eyes moving between hers. He seemed uncharacteristically at a loss for words. “Perhaps it’s better if I show you.”

He swallowed seeming to steel himself before he reached into the pocket of his jacket. Emma watched as he slowly held up a delicate ring, a silver band with a single emerald. She could tell it was a valuable jewel and it was too feminine for it to be his. It looked like a wedding band.

“Whoa, whoa,” she stammered actually falling back a step as she held up her hands between them.

“Calm down, Emma,” he chuckled at her reaction. “I’m not proposing.”

She watched him roll the ring between his fingers thoughtfully for a moment, and she was overwhelmed by the emotion washing over her. It was a touch of disappointment, maybe a little embarrassment, but what was most surprising was that she had no urge to run. The mere thought of such a gesture should have had her hiking her skirts to sprint for the exits. But the longer Killian held the ring between them the more she ached for whatever this fragile thing between them was, the feelings she had stubbornly been trying to ignore.

“This ring,” Killian began again, taking a breath. “This ring belonged to the Queen.”

“What, did you steal it from her?” Emma laughed, but the sound faded quickly at his serious expression. She frowned. “Did you find it in the castle?”

He watched her reaction closely before shaking his head. “No, not exactly.”

“I don’t understand,” she said.

“I got this ring from the Princess,” he told her, his words deliberate, his gaze trained on her carefully. His expression almost begging her, perhaps begging her to understand, or to forgive.

Emma’s brows pulled down. “The Princess? You knew her?” she asked taken aback.

“No, no it wasn’t like that. I didn’t know her exactly. Not at the time. I-” he shook his head again. “I’m not explaining this well.”

“You haven’t explained anything,” she said crossing her arms in front of her.

“What matters is this ring found its way to me. And for many years I kept it safe and hidden, a reminder that everything can change in one night, that anything can be torn away from you.”

“I don’t understand, why are you showing me?” Emma asked him.

“ _This_  is the Queen’s ring. If you have it when you meet her, the Queen will not question that you are the Princess.”

Emma looked from him to the ring. So this was his plan? His insurance policy for when she no doubt bungled her attempt to impersonate the princess. Some stolen trinket he had looted from a dusty corner of the castle he routinely broke into. Another jewel to disguise her behind, another piece to her intricate costume, another layer to her deception.

“Fine,” she said curtly, “I’ll take it.”

He seemed thrown by her sudden coldness, but he tipped the ring into her outstretched hand. “Emma, there’s something mor-” he started but she didn’t want any more advice on how to better pretend to be a princess.

“I’ll meet you downstairs. I just need a minute,” she said cutting him off and dismissing him.

Again he searched her expression. “Of course,” he said with a small nod and moved to leave her. He paused once just before reaching the door, turning back to her his mouth opening, as if he was going to tell her something, but he exited without a word.

Emma watched him go before sinking into one of the plush chairs. She turned the ring over and over in her hands as she considered it. There was something about the weight of it, the clear unblemished face of the emerald and the smooth band that tickled at something in the back of her mind. She briefly considered slipping it onto her finger, but she slid it into her clutch instead, right beside the dagger.

~*~

Killian found Ruby in the foyer. She had clearly enjoyed herself choosing from the expensive garments they had found in the mansion. He could feel the excited energy radiating off her. She always loved a good party, and a royal ball would be unlike anything they had attended.

He wanted to be happy for her, but he couldn’t stop the nagging at the back of his mind.  _Gold didn’t help people_.

Killian wasn’t thick, he knew Emma must have offered Gold something, and he didn’t really believe her story about arranging a meeting. It didn’t sound like Gold and the details didn’t add up. But then what did Emma have that would have value to the most powerful man in the world?

Unless Gold knew who she really was.

That was a more logical conclusion. But if Gold knew she was the Princess then why were they all playing at this charade of going to the ball to see the King and Queen. Why hadn’t Gold killed them all when he had them locked up? Nothing about their situation made sense to him, and every time he tried to figure out what was actually going on he only ended up with more questions.

But even if by some miracle Gold didn’t yet know Emma’s identity there was no way they would be able keep it secret much longer. When he had entered Emma’s room upstairs he had been stunned at the sight of her. In an elegant gown and jewels she looked like every painting and fairytale princess come to life. Staring back at him had been the princess she had been born to be. Even if she couldn’t see it yet, she had already found what she was looking for.

He ran a hand through his hair tugging lightly at the strands as though that might help relieve some of the tension.

“What’s wrong?” Ruby asked nudging him.

“Do you really not know?” he deadpanned.

He made a mental tally. They were in Gold’s mansion. There were blackguards stationed at every door. They were about to infiltrate a royal ball they weren’t invited to with an invitation that was clearly a forgery, and not even a very good one. Then somehow Emma had to get the King and Queen to agree to a meeting with a man who had tried to have them killed.

Ruby leveled him with a look. “Emma’s going to do her part.”

Ruby’s answer surprised him. He frowned.

“This isn’t just about Emma,” he said.

“Yes it is,” she said. “I know you think your nerves are because we have been backed into a corner by a man you hate, a man who also hates you. But this isn’t about Gold. This is about Emma. You’re afraid you’re going to lose her too.”

Killian stared at her for a moment. He wasn’t used to Ruby reading him and weighing in on his thoughts. He didn’t feel like an exploration of his feelings, but Ruby was right about one thing, he was definitely going to lose Emma. As soon as she knew the truth, as soon as she was reunited with her parents, she would be absorbed into a world where he couldn’t follow her.

“She is the Princess,” he told her quietly.

Ruby gave him a pat on the back. “See, there’s that positive thinking. She’ll be fine. We taught her well.”

“No, Ruby,” he said meeting her eyes. “She’s the Princess.”

He watched Ruby take in his words, his meaning. Her eyes widened, and a frown slowly spread across her expression. “Did she remember?”

Killian shook his head. “No, but I know it.”

“Killian,” she said and there was so much emotion packed into the way she said his name. He let her pull him in for a hug, her arms holding him tightly. For a moment it felt like it might be the only thing holding him together.

He heard footsteps and looked over the top of Ruby’s head to see Emma coming down the stairs. She was watching the two of them closely.

“It’s time,” he said before letting her go, the two of them moving apart. Ruby looked at Emma as she moved toward them, taking in the sight of her dressed as a princess.

“You look perfect,” Ruby told her. Emma gave her a tentative smile, but it did little to hide the clear anguish in her expression.

Killian opened the door as Emma approached trying to meet her eyes, trying one last time to get out the words that had been trapped within him. He owed her at least that. But she avoided his gaze minding only her dress and shoes on the steps down to the street.

There were two disguised blackguards standing beside a carriage on the street. Neither seemed too pleased to have been delegated to this duty. Killian was just glad Gold wasn’t present. This agreement was bad enough, he wasn’t sure he could stomach a carriage ride with him. How had they gotten to the point they were essentially working for Gold?

~*~

Emma stared out the window of the carriage as it bumped along the streets. Killian and Ruby were whispering to each other on the seat across from her, but the thoughts swirling through her mind were much louder.

She could practically feel the dagger burning through her clutch. Her heart stuttered and slammed against her ribs as she tried to imagine it. She remembered working on the docks in the small fishing village now hundreds of miles away. The barrels of fish, the sound as her knife sliced into them, the feeling of their insides slipping over her fingers as she gutted them. The eerie way their shiny eyes stared, lifeless. A shiver ran up her spine as she thought about it.

There was something personal about a dagger. Gold had meant for this to be personal. She’d have to be close to them, staring into their eyes as the light left them. Feel the blade as it sliced into them.

She coughed, feeling bile climb up her throat. She wanted to run, she wanted to cry, she wanted…

“We’re here,” Killian announced as the carriage slowed to a stop. He swung down first before helping Ruby out.

“Come on, Emma,” he murmured and she looked up at his outstretched hand and then past it to the building with its wide doors flung open letting light and the faint sound of music spill out.

“I can’t do this,” she whispered finding it suddenly hard to breathe, her throat closing, her vision narrowing, a blackness swallowing her.

And then he was there, the dizziness making him swim slightly before her. His hands, flesh and mechanical, wrapped gently around hers holding her. She gripped him as the terror washed over her.

“It’s okay,” he told her softly. “I’ve got you.”

He repeated the words over and over as she fought to steady her breathing. She could conquer this. It was weak and stupid to break down but his eyes held no judgement as he coaxed her back to herself. His soothing tone guiding her back from the darkness.

“What if we just left?” she asked him the words barely more than a whisper. “Ran away. Took the carriage and ran?”

He shook his head, his thumb rubbing over the back of her hand.

“We can’t do that,” he said gently. “We’re so close to what you want. You need to see the King and Queen.”

She closed her eyes and tried to slow her racing heart and steady her roiling stomach. He was right. They had to face this. If she didn’t do this they would be hunted down their whole lives.

“I’m sorry,” she croaked her throat thick.

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he reassured her. It did little to settle her conscience, knowing what she needed to do. He wouldn’t think so highly of her by the end of night, she’d be a cold blooded murderer, and he would never want to see her again. It broke her already damaged heart, but it was the price she had to agreed to. It was the price for his life, a price she knew she would pay.

“Come on,” he murmured reaching up to brush a tear from her cheek and offering her a smile. “Everything’s going to be okay. I won’t leave your side. I promise.”

She blinked, swallowing thickly.

“When the moment comes,” he said holding her gaze, “ just find a way to get close to the royals, and then it’s just-”

“Then it’s up to me,” she finished for him. Get close to the royals, and then it was up to her. Ring or dagger. Their lives or Killian’s.

He seemed to sense the storm raging within her. His hand released hers for a second and moved to hold her cheek.

“I’ve yet to see you fail,” he told her. She glanced up at the sincerity in his voice. His expression was open, filled with unashamed admiration, pride, and something she wasn’t ready to define.

She let his belief in her bolster her frayed courage. With some effort she made herself return his small smile.

“There you are,” he said holding her gaze before lifting her hand to brush a kiss to the back of her knuckles, “Your Highness.”

She let out a bitter laugh. “Right.”

His smile faded at her dismissive tone. But she didn’t let herself dwell on the disappointment in his expression as she straightened, preparing to step out of the carriage and into the crowd.

The wind made the layers of her skirt flutter. She looked around at all the other couples moving to the entrance. Then he was at her side, slipping her hand into the crook of his elbow as he led her up the steps to where the guards stood.

They watched the guests carefully as they approached, their watchful eyes sweeping over each guest and Emma tensed afraid they might be able to read the guilt in her expression, sense the dagger on her person. Killian glanced at her and gave her hand a squeeze before producing their invitation from his jacket.

The guard glanced at it before nodding for them to enter. Emma stared at the white uniforms they wore, the crest embroidered on them, three round flowers.

“Never thought I’d see royal guard uniforms again,” Killian remarked softly as they moved inside.

But all thoughts of the guards dissolved as soon as they walked inside. The wide entrance hall towered above them, and people milled about dressed in some of the most beautiful dresses she’d ever seen, organza and tulle floating after the ladies as they moved. All the men were smartly dressed in tails and finely embroidered brocade waistcoats. Everywhere jewels glinted like the stars had fallen from the night sky to cling to the guests in sparkling droplets.

Emma stared wide-eyed and open mouthed at the scene. Growing up on the streets and huddled alone in dark corners she had tried to imagine what her family might have been like. She had imagined the lives of a happy merchant family, the charms of the seaside life of a sailor’s family, the nomadic spirit of traveling performers. She had imagined the simple joys of a roof over her head, one that didn’t leak, the whispered phrases of a lullaby, the warmth of a fire in the hearth, the hug of a mother. But never in all her fantasies had she imagined any of the elegance and grace that surrounded her now. Never had she entertained the idea that people lived like this. It made her childhood dreams seem embarrassingly humble.

“Not what you expected?” Killian asked with a smirk.

“I had no idea,” she told him her eyes devouring every new sight.

He led them on, steering her through the other guests to where the ballroom opened up from between two gilded doors. The music from a string ensemble swelled to fill the room with a floating waltz. Several people turned to look at them as they passed and she was glad Killian was beside her, anchoring her.

“They’re staring at us,” Emma whispered to him.

He shook his head. “They’re looking at you, love,” he said. It would have made her feel self conscious if not for the way his eyes crinkled at the corners, warm and reassuring.

“I don’t know what to do,” she said glancing around at the heads turned in their direction. Across the room she caught sight of Ruby chatting with a young woman in a blue dress by the punch, looking like the cat that got the cream.

“Just follow my lead,” he said turning to place to her hand on his shoulder, his own coming to rest on her waist. His lips pulled up in a smile that told her he was remembering the last time they had danced.

For a heartbeat their eyes met, the moment stretching as she was caught breathless in his gaze, and then he took a step pulling her into the rhythm of the music.

One-two-three. His steps confident and sure like they had been in Gold’s mansion, what felt like ages ago. One-two-three. One-two-three. He twirled her, her skirts flaring wide before she came back to the circle of his arms, and she lost count of the music as she relaxed into his embrace.

Reds, blues, greens, and every color swirled past her as they wove around other couples. It was like dancing within a rainbow at the end of a storm, a calm settling over her. All her nerves and fears slowly quieting and healed by the music and the dance. She wanted to cherish it and enjoy just one more stolen moment with Killian.

They danced as one, anticipating each beat and movement. In that moment it didn’t matter what secrets they were still hiding from each other. While they danced nothing in the world around them mattered. It was just the two of them. Emma felt more open then she had in years, all her walls and barriers melted away.

She wasn’t sure how long they danced, but she wasn’t ready to stop when Killian slowed as yet another waltz drifted to an end. She stood frozen as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

“Stay here,” he said pulling back. “I’ll get us something to drink.” And then he moved off disappearing into the crowd.

Emma took a shaking breath, she could still feel the ghost of his warm lips against her cheek. She leaned up onto her toes to see over the people around her looking for Killian’s dark hair near the refreshments, hoping he would hurry back.

The sound of heralding trumpets sounded loudly around her cutting off the orchestra and making Emma jump. She turned to see a company of guards making their way to the dais at the front of the room.

“Their Royal Majesties, the King and Queen of Misthaven,” a voice boomed and room erupted in applause.

Emma watched as a man and woman reached the dais hand in hand, sharing a small smile between them before turning to the room. They wore plush fur-lined capes over their formal attire. Several medals hung from the King’s jacket, a sash draped across the front of the Queen’s dress, simple yet elegant crowns upon their heads.

She tried to compare the two to the painting she had seen in the castle, the day she had met Killian and Ruby. The Queen had a few streaks of gray running through her brown hair, but somehow it just made her seem more regal. And the King stood with his feet planted firm, not the proud stance from the painting, but the posture of a man who weathered the forces of the world and was still standing.

Emma pushed a few steps forward to the front of the crowd, if she was going to act she had to do it now. If she waited she would never be able to muster her courage. She opened her clutch pulling out the dagger forcing her shaking fingers to grip it tightly.

Her movement caught the King’s notice, his gaze landing on her and he froze. She paused, standing still, waiting for him to alert the guards, but then he took a jerking step forward, his hand slipping from his wife’s. He took another step toward Emma his eyes wide. The Queen glanced at him before following his gaze to her.

Emma stared. The Queen’s eyes were green with faintest touch of brown, a shade Emma knew from her own reflection. A memory flashed through her mind. The feeling of hands holding hers, those same eyes filled with warmth as she spoke, “ _This ring will always lead you back home._ ”

And then she remembered a ring, a ring the Queen had slipped from her finger. A simple silver band and a solitary emerald. A ring sitting in her clutch that very moment. The dagger clattered to the floor as Emma moved toward the dais.

The King met her halfway his hands coming to hold her cheeks as he beamed at her, tears in his eyes. “Emma,” he choked, “My little girl.”

Emma felt tears slipping down her cheeks as she smiled wetly at him, letting out something between a laugh and a sob. “I remember,” she said softly glancing at them both. “I remember you.”

Her father wrapped his arms around her hugging her close. It was something she had been without for so long. The feeling of his strong arms around her, the feeling of safety. She held him, her fingers digging into his shoulders as faint memories trickled back to her. The sound of his laugh as they sparred with wooden swords in the throne room of castle a hundred miles away, the sweet smell of the blooming flowers in the gardens in spring, the stern voice her mother used when she was caught out of bed roaming the castle.

“You found us,” her father whispered into her hair.

Emma gripped him tighter, overcome by his words. She had found them, she had found her family. After over thirteen years lost and alone she had found her place. And it was like somehow she had always known.

The Queen joined them placing a hand on Emma’s shoulder. Emma turned to her, surprised by the emotion that overwhelmed her. This was her  _mother_. Instinct drove her as she crumpled into her mother’s embrace. The Queen held her tightly and only after several long moments did the Queen draw back and beam at her before pressing a kiss to her forehead.

“Emma,” she said and it was like she had never truly heard her name before. “You’re here.”

Emma nodded, not even trying to stop the tears now. “I’m here,” she said. “I found you.”

She wasn’t even sure how you were supposed to comprehend something so impossible. How could she have forgotten them so completely? How could they have been separated for so long? What was she supposed to do now?

“Well isn’t this a charming family reunion?” a voice sneered behind them.

They broke apart turning to back to the crowd. And there stepping from between two shocked guests was Gold with a wicked glint in his eyes.

“Gold,” Her father said pushing Emma a step behind him as he pulled his sword from its scabbard. The guards around them began rushing to attention.

Gold didn’t seem concerned with her father or their guards. His gaze, burning with clear hatred, was focused only on Emma.

“I thought I made it clear what would happen if you failed,” Gold said.

Emma’s heart dropped into her stomach. Over his shoulder she could see dozens of blackguards in the ballroom, moving between the couples and standing guard at all the entrances.

From among the crowd her eyes found Killian’s. Even across the room she could see the worry in his expression. There were no blackguards near him but it would only take them minutes to find him and Ruby. She hadn’t honored her bargain with Gold. The dagger lay abandoned halfway between her and Gold. He had told her what would happen if she didn’t kill the King and Queen.

But knowing now they were her parents she knew there was no way she could go through with it. She held Killian’s gaze and gave a small shake of her head to stop him from trying to help her.


	8. Once Upon a December

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> artwork by @prongsie

_~      Misthaven, 13 years ago     ~_

“Get home now, boy,” the dockmaster ordered giving him a shove. “Don’t get caught out on the streets tonight.”

Killian stared from the rough features of the man to the flickering flames consuming the buildings on the high street. He could hear the shouts, the booms from the castle on the hill. The world around him had become a nightmare. Monsters materializing in the faces of the people he had seen on these streets for years, all of them possessed by an anger he didn’t understand.

How could he tell the dockmaster he had no home to run to? Killian had told him when he got the job months ago that he wasn’t an urchin. Of course that hadn’t exactly been a lie at the time, but it had been weeks since he had more than the stars as a roof over his head.

“Go on,” the man said again more forcefully.

Killian looked up the row of airships moored at the docks. _The Archeron, The Charlotte, The Legacy, The Esperanza,_ and _The Scorpion._ All of them magnificent beside the shabby buildings lining the worn docks. All of them with cannons and sturdy hulls to keep danger out. But he knew none of them would offer him shelter, already there were shouts from the crews to make way, to cast off.

Not sure what else to do with the dockmaster watching him, Killian walked just far enough to be out of sight before crouching down behind some abandoned crates, squeezing down beside the stone wall of a tavern. It wasn’t much for shelter, but he hoped it would keep him out of view until this blew over.

He had weathered the night the pirates had stormed the harbor, swooping from the skies in a black airship, cannons lighting the sky like lightning made of fire, flashing from storm clouds of gunpowder. And he had stayed safe during the strikes at the new factories last month. This was probably just more of the same. A small scuffle that would quiet again, everything returning to much as it was.

He hugged his legs to his chest, resting his cheek on his knees as he prayed for this to pass quickly. But instead of lolling him to sleep the sounds grew louder, moving closer. He could now make out the distinct snaps of gunshots, the shouting became recognizable words. Pleas. Warnings. Terror.

He pressed harder against the cold stones behind him trying to disappear, trying to ignore it all. Tears burned behind his eyes as he squeezed them shut. For the first time in months he wished for his brother, for someone to tell him everything would be okay.

He tried to remember the stories his brother had read to him years ago. Stories of heroes who were never afraid. Gallant knights who slayed dragons and rescued fair maidens. He used to pretend that all the days his father had left them alone he was one of those knights out protecting the kingdom, earning glory. He tried to remember those stories now, the ones that had made him want to be brave.

A gunshot rang out on the docks just beyond the crate he was behind. The noise echoed loudly off the stone wall behind him. He jerked, flinching, his eyes flying open. It was too close, the riots must have made their way this far from the castle. In the small space between the wooden planks he could see a few dark shapes moving around. Most of the people had fled from the streets and docks.

“David” a voice cried out from the other side of his hiding place. The sound slicing through him and making his blood run cold. The one word filled with desperation, the sound so hopeless.

Killian slid forward an inch stretching to get a better look at what was happening.

There was a strange shimmer to the air on the docks, like the rippling heat on a summer day. He wondered if it was magic, but he had never seen magic leave a trace like that before. It was more likely not magic at all but some strange science the new inventors, the Industrialists, had created. The shimmer lingered like a thick translucent fog between him and the people on the docks, obscuring them.

He watched as several large men in dark coats and boots converged on a small group huddled together. Two men and a woman. Probably the same woman he had heard scream. One of the men was wearing a palace guard uniform. He wondered if the castle had sent guards out to help the people and stop the riots.

He watched as the woman in the group bent over the body of a man who was clearly wounded and lying limply on the ground. The dark-cloaked man closest to them lifted his arm and pointed a gun right at the woman. Killian could hear the rasp of his voice saying something, and he could see the glint of a tear running down the woman’s cheek as she looked up at the man.

As they stepped into the light from the lanterns on the docks Killian could make out more of the features of the dark cloaked men. Each of them had strange large unblinking eyes, their faces alien. Killian rubbed at his eyes as if that might help him see through the fog better. It took a moment but as his vision cleared a little he realized that the men were all wearing strange masks that obscured most of their faces. Those unblinking eyes were thick goggles and there were cage-like respirators over their mouths, it made them look like mechanical monsters.

And then he saw the girl. Her golden hair standing out against all the smoke. She stumbled, her feet tripping on the planks. She looked like the old sailors after they spent too much time in the tavern drinking too much grog. He watched her try to make her way to the others. A young girl shouldn’t have been there. Why had no one told her to get off the streets? He could tell even from the distance that her coat was made from expensive fabric so why wasn’t she secure in one of the big houses on the manicured avenues?

The masked man cocked his gun, the hammer making a loud clunk. Killian could feel the cold dread spread through him and he watched.

“Goodbye, Your Majesty,” the man sneered as he pulled the trigger. A flash and a loud blast erupted from the muzzle splitting the night.

_Your Majesty._

The words filtered through his mind and then Killian was vaulting over the crate before he had even fully made the decision. They were the Royal Family. It explained why the guard had been with them. How had he not recognized them?

He grabbed the arm of one of the masked men in the black coats to stop him but the man merely half-turned throwing him off as if he were nothing. Killian went down hard, the impact knocking the breath out of him. He glanced around at the group of strange men now towering over him. They were terrifying this close, and he couldn’t quite remember why he had wanted to fight them in the first place. Everything about them made him want to run. A primal fear tearing through him.

And then the girl was there beside him. Her expression dazed as she moved toward him. Her blonde hair blew around her, her gown ripped. Killian opened his mouth to tell her to run.

“The Princess,” one of the men said and the other three turned.

The girl didn’t seem to even see them as she stared at the King and Queen crumpled on the docks. Her eyes widening as she saw her parents wounded. One moment she was standing there, alone and broken, and the next second she was light and fire and dawn against the darkest night.

Killian threw his arms over his head ducking as she screamed, light blasting off of her. The tingling sensation of magic washing over him raising the hairs on his arms and the back of his neck. But it wasn’t like the petty magic from the witches in the market or the ancient magic of the fairies in the countryside. This was powerful and electric, an intensity he had never experienced. She was like a phoenix exploding in a deadly blaze, and the men yelled around him, scrambling to get away.

And just as soon as it had started it was over, the light fading from her. He blinked, looking up just in time to see her fall to the ground spent. He quickly looked from the scattered masked men to the King and Queen still lying motionless to the Princess breathing shallowly, her eyes rolling behind her closed lids. He made his decision in an instant pushing up to his feet and running to her.

“Are you alright?” he asked as he reached the princess, his hand shaking her shoulder. Her head merely rolled to the side.

“Get her! She’s the one we need,” one of the men called behind him his voice distorted by the mask. Killian glanced over his shoulder to see the men regrouping. They seemed shaken by whatever the Princess had done but not defeated.

“No time,” Killian muttered to himself as he grabbed the Princess under her arms and hauled her up. He stumbled forward a step trying to get his balance juggling her limp weight before half dragging her a few feet.

She groaned against him, making a feeble attempt to pull away from him. “The airship,” she mumbled the words barely coherent.

“Stay with me, Princess,” he said as he gripped her and swept her into his arms. He grunted under her full weight but adrenaline was pumping through his veins and he forced himself to run. He could hear the sounds of the men behind him but he didn’t waste time looking back. He had to get her away from the docks.

He didn’t get far before his arms were burning with the weight of carrying her. He knew the masked men were gaining on him, but he was willing to bet they didn’t know these streets like he did. He dove down a side street his feet slipping on the slick cobblestones. A few feet more. He swung left into a narrow alley ducking down into a dark corner.

The Princess slid limply from his grip onto the ground where he propped her against the wall. He crouched down in front of her, his hands ghosting over her not sure what to do.

“Princess,” he said softly but she didn’t stir. “Please wake up.”

He turned, listening for any movement out on the street beyond the alley but everything was quiet. He gave himself a moment to relax as his breathing slowed and evened out. This night was not going at all like he had hoped. What the hell was he doing with the Princess? The King and Queen were likely dead. What was he supposed to do? Who the hell were those men? Why were they trying to kill the royal family? Did it have something to do with the riots and fires in the town? Where were the rest of the palace guards?

He sat back on his heels as he considered the girl in front of him. She was only a few years younger than he was but her thick coat dwarfed her and made her seem even smaller. She was prettier than the other girls he knew. Her eyelashes curled against her cheek, the delicate curve of her pink lips. She looked an angel with her golden hair falling around her like a halo.

“I’ll keep you safe,” he said laying a hand gently on her shoulder. It was a promise he meant to keep. She shifted under his touch mumbling something but not waking.

His hand slid down over her sleeve to hold her hand, her fingers were cold and trembling. Something hard fell into his palm. He pulled away staring at the silver and emerald ring that fallen from her small fingers. It was was probably worth more than anything he had ever held before. Just a trinket to her, and it would have been enough to change his whole life. They were from two very different worlds.

A gunshot exploded just behind him and a force hit him square in the back between his shoulder blades surprising him. He gasped falling forward. His limbs seemed to go numb as heat spread across his back from the place he’d been hit. Panic washed over him as he looked back and saw the masked men filing into the alley. They had found him and the princess.

A hand gripped his hair hauling him to his knees, the pain in his scalp making tears fill his eyes.

“Rat,” one of the men spat as he glared down at Killian from behind his goggles.

“Get off me,” Killian snarled wrenching himself from the man’s grip. He managed to land a punch to the man’s gut making him swear.

Killian couldn’t react fast enough to block the man’s knee as it came up to connect with his temple making him fall and his head spin. He braced himself on all fours trying to regain his balance as stars popped in his vision. The ground seemed to rock beneath him.

“Enough,” the man said and Killian heard the knife unsheathed but didn’t even see it before it plunged into the back of his hand straight through his left palm. The man twisted the knife slicing through ligaments and shattering bones as he drove it down into the ground pinning Killian’s hand like a bug on a board.

Killian stared for an absurd moment in disbelief before the pain came. He grit his teeth as his mind lost all sense and the only thing he knew was pain. He could see his own blood pooling under the twitching fingers of his now ruined hand.

“We just need the girl. Summon him,” the leader said.

Killian watched behind a blur of tears as the masked men walked callously around Killian to where the Princess was still slumped against the wall. He tried to call out to her but there were black spots clouding his vision and his throat felt raw and useless.

He didn’t know how long he lay there floating in and out of consciousness before he was jarred back to his senses. He tried to lift his head to find the source of the sound that had woken him. He had almost decided he had imagined it in some fever dream from the blood loss and a possible concussion but then it came again.

It was a grinding, churning noise. Killian opened his eyes a fraction. He was still in the alley, his hand throbbing where the knife was still crudely stabbed through it. He fought down a retch as he turned away and looked at the group a few feet from him. The men in dark cloaks were standing in a loose circle, their masks now tipped up on their foreheads. Killian wasn’t sure if he was any less frightened of their haggard faces and cold eyes.

And from the center of their circle shone a red glowing light that flared and waned like the ebb and flow of waves on a beach.

From his vantage on the ground he could see between their boots to where the Princess lay. She looked unharmed but barely conscious. A small thin man without a dark cloak or mask bent over her with the glowing object in his hand.

“We’re almost done,” the new man said with a wicked glint in his eyes. “When we’ve drained all her magic, kill her.”

“Understood, Mr. Gold,” one of the cloaked men said with a nod his hand already drifting to a curved dagger in his belt.

 _Drain her magic. Kill her._ Killian had to stop them. The princess was alone and in danger, and for whatever reason there were no palace guards coming for her, no one else was going to save her. And he had made a promise, a promise to keep her safe.

He grunted as he shifted, each movement pulling on his injured hand. It was an effort to steady himself enough to even look at the wound. But slowly he reached over, his right hand shaking as he tentatively gripped the handle of the knife. Even the smallest amount of pressure sent pain shooting up his left arm. He clenched his teeth hard as he wrenched the knife out in one motion making new blood well up from his palm. He bit into the fabric of his jacket to stop from screaming out and alerting the others that he was awake.

“The amulet will contain her power,” Mr. Gold said nodding at the red glowing object in his hand. “Once it’s been captured we can channel it into our inventions, it will take the Guild to places we haven’t imagined yet. The marriage of magic and science.”

The others nodded as if his words meant something to them. Killian had no idea what any of them were talking about. He chalked it up to blood loss, he was probably hallucinating. He stood on shaking legs and gripped the knife tightly in his right hand.

He moved from the shadows ducking quickly between the cloaked men to Gold and plunged the blade into his leg feeling it grind against bone. Gold turned meeting his eyes as he gasped his hand clutching at his leg.

“Thanks for the knife,” Killian hissed before pulling it back out.

Gold crumpled under his own weight and stumbled, the glowing amulet falling from his hand. It hit the ground heavily and flickered for a second growing dim before the light went out. Gold screamed and cursed diving for the amulet landing hard on his injured leg and Killian heard the bone crack but Gold seemed only focused on the amulet. Desperately reaching out to grab it off the ground, holding it delicately as he ran his hands over the surface.

Killian didn’t spare Gold another thought as he stood, cradling his left hand to his chest, blood staining his shirt. He glanced around the space but the Princess was gone. In the commotion she had disappeared.

“Kill him!” Gold shouted pointing a blood covered finger at Killian.

Two of the cloaked men started toward him and he knew he wouldn’t win any fights with them, not outnumbered and injured. So he threw the knife at the larger one watching it catch him in the shoulder. And then he turned and ran.

He pelted out of the alley and ran back towards the docks hoping to catch up to the princess. But all the streets were empty, and when he reached the docks the King and Queen had disappeared along with all of the all airships that had been docked. He scanned overhead for any sign of them but the low storm clouds rolling in obscured everything. He hoped the princess had managed to get aboard one of them, that she was flying to safety.

Killian knew he couldn’t linger on the docks because the masked men would be close behind him. He turned and disappeared into the shadows as the sound of thunder rumbled overhead echoing off the stone buildings as the storm descended on the city.

 

~*~

 

Emma watched as her mother stepped forward off the dias her ballgown trailing on the steps.

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here,” the Queen said as she stared coldly at Gold.

“Your Majesty, how long it’s been. How is retirement treating you?” Gold said in response.

The Queen narrowed her eyes looking vengeful.

“How is oppressing my country treating you?” she asked him. “Seems you’ve developed a limp since I last saw you, and a skin condition.”

Emma studied Gold from the way he leaned heavily on an engraved cane to the waxy sheen to his skin. Only now was she realizing how different he looked from when she had last seen him at his house. He had been an unremarkable man of middle age then. Now he seemed haggard, diseased, wholly different, a demon wearing his features. How could he have changed so much in appearance so quickly?

“The strain of being an engaged leader, an innovator,” Gold said with a wave of his hand though it seemed to linger over the red amulet around his neck.

It was the amulet from the portrait, the same as the one in her dream. He hadn’t been wearing it when he had interrogated her in his mansion, and she wondered suddenly if wearing it is what had distorted his appearance, aged him. As if whatever power it held didn’t agree with him, like it was fighting back against him.

“As much as I’d love to continue chatting I actually came here to finish what I started thirteen years ago,” Gold said raising a pistol at them, but now the barrel drifted from the Queen to point directly at Emma.

Her heart quickened at she stared down the deadly weapon.

“No,” her father cried holding up a hand. “No. We’ll do anything. We’ll give you anything. Sign anything. Forfeit our claim and control of Misthaven.”

Emma turned away from Gold to stare at him and at her mother who did not protest to his words. Everything they had worked for and spent their lives building, they were willing to give it up for her. She was practically a stranger to them.

They might have been ready to give in to Gold but she wasn’t about to give up that easily. She tried to reach within herself and find the magic she knew was hidden there. The last time she had thought she was going to lose someone she cared for it had flared to life. She tried the dredge that feeling up from within her, that need to punch back and take control of her own destiny, the need to protect the people she loved.

She saw Gold’s sharp grin as he contemplated her father’s offer and she dug down into the deepest corners of her heart but there was no flash of light, no warmth crashing through her. There was only emptiness.

 

~*~

 

Killian pushed past another partygoer as he carefully wove through the stunned crowd that was watching the spectacle unfold. He could see Emma still with the King and Queen, her parents, and he watched as Gold sneered up at them. When he saw his gun aimed directly at Emma he doubled his pace.

It was a haunting memory brought back to life. The royal family surrounded and backed into a corner, the royal guards not close enough to help, the blackguards closing in. Gold threatening Emma. History was repeating, the ghostly reflection of another December night long ago.

But this time Emma was not a helpless girl Gold could overpower. He had seen it when their eyes had met across the sea of people at the ball, her stubborn determination, the power that slept in her blood. On that train he had seen what she was capable of and Gold was no match for that raw power.

Killian could hear the King and Queen speaking to Gold but he focused on Emma. She was staring only at Gold. He had expected her to have unleashed some surge of her magic by now, he wondered what she was waiting for.

“You wouldn’t kill us here. Not with so many witnesses,” Emma said speaking to Gold, looking past the gun pointed at her. “There is unrest in Misthaven, you admitted as much to me yourself. You can’t afford to make us martyrs.”

Her father made a move to quiet her but Emma waved him off and took a step closer to Gold.

Gold watched her with a gleam in his eyes, as though he finally had a worthy adversary, someone to play with him in this deadly game.

“Now, you, Your Highness,” he said to her, his grip tightening on the pistol as she moved another step closer to him. “You are something special. The last link in a dynasty that has chained Misthaven down, but you are also someone who has lived among its people, unaware of who you were. In many ways you are one of them more than you are royal.”

“Why does it matter who I was?” Emma asked.

Gold smiled darkly. “Because we are connected,” he said again his hand moving to the amulet, “we are two sides of the same coin.”

“I’m nothing like you. I would never do what you’ve done,” Emma said icily as she moved still closer. Holding his attention, buying them time, Killian realized. She was within an arm’s length from him now.

Gold gave a small shrug. “And yet you made what I have accomplished possible.”

Killian broke through to the front of the crowd coming to stand just behind Gold. He saw Emma’s eyes slide to him over Gold’s shoulder and he could read her plan in her eyes. He drew the short dagger from his belt.

“How is that?” Emma asked to keep him talking. She was barely a foot from the muzzle of the gun still pointed at her heart.

“It has to do with your magic,” Gold told her. He looked smug a magician about to explain his best trick.

“What do you know about my magic?” she asked. For a moment Emma seemed to slip, a genuine curiosity coloring her question.

“It is the key to everything,” Gold told her with a grin. He gestured around him with his cane. “It is what inspired a kingdom, and also what tore it apart. It is what opened the door to the science that we all now rely on. It is what made many of our inventions possible. Your magic is the life force of the Industrialists.”

“I don’t believe you,” Emma said.

“How else do you think we found you again and again? It was your magic that we tracked to find you since you set foot in the capital city. It is what has brought us all here tonight.”

Killian was surprised by Gold’s words. It was how the blackguards had found them at the border, on the train, and at Gold’s mansion. The amulet and their inventions were drawn to her magic. Fragmented pieces of the same power recognizing each other.

Gold shifted his weight, his grip on the pistol loosening the smallest fraction. It was what Emma had been waiting for andhe sprang into action grabbing the barrel of Gold’s gun and wrenching it from him. Killian lunged forward slamming into Gold and knocking him sideways. Together they fell to the ground.

Gold turned in his grip, a snake wriggling free. He snarled as he saw Killian’s face, a phantom that continued to haunt him. Gold’s eyes saw the blade in Killian’s hand and his expression turned deadly, the alienness of his features intensifying his eyes nearly glowing red. And then he attacked.

Killian had expected Gold to try land a few punches, perhaps draw some hidden weapon. But he hadn’t been expecting the wave of magic that poured off him. It blasted Killian off clear off Gold and several feet across the room.

Killian scrambled up in time to see Emma bent over, curled into herself holding her side as if she had been struck by the force too. Beside her the King and Queen were getting up from where they had been knocked over.

A gunshot rang out in the stunned silence of the hall. Killian saw Ruby stride from the crowd taking aim at one of the blackguards who was moving in from the edge of the room. He fell at once and she moved past him.

“This way,” she said ushering the King and Queen and others from the danger.

Her action spurred a few of the palace guards to regroup and fight back the blackguards as they closed in.

Gold recovered the quickest, raising his hands as his magic crackled like electricity in the air. He moved toward Emma, toward her parents and Ruby.

Killian flipped the knife in his hand holding the blade between two fingers balancing the weight and then hurled it toward Gold. The blade flew true to its mark but deflected at the last moment as if there was a force around Gold protecting him. The dagger fell uselessly to the ground with a thud skidding across the smooth floor.

Killian straightened as Gold turned to face him. The dagger hadn’t done any damage but it had succeeded in distracting Gold and drawing his ire away from the others. Killian was now unarmed and outmatched. He mer Gold’s cold eyes and slowly spread his arms in a challenge.

He was expecting the next bolt of magic Gold unleashed. It flew across the space in shining, flowing, branching in a white so brilliant that it was at once every color. He didn’t flinch as it hit him squarely in the chest knocking him over with the force, his head cracking against the floor.

The room swam in front of him. He ran a hand over his chest, his ribs aching, his lungs burning. His muscles were shaking and he wasn’t sure if he could stand.

Emma was beside him suddenly, her honey scent surrounding him. And then her hands were running over him as she knelt down.

“Killian,” she said. “What the hell were you thinking?”

He reached up to grip her. He wanted to tell her run but his muddled mind couldn’t form the words.

“We have to move,” she said her voice sounding far away. He fought to keep her in focus.

He felt her hands under his arms tugging him, but his legs wouldn’t hold him and he slumped back down.

There was a crash and plaster from the ceiling rained down around them, the effect of another wave of magic. Emma tugged him a few steps farther behind one of the large pillars and he slumped down against it. She leaned back beside him breathing heavily.

He turned to her taking her in, looking for any sign she was injured. Her gown was torn at the shoulder, a bruise forming on her arm. He tried to shake off the effects of the Gold’s attack.

“You have to stop him, Emma,” he told her. “Use your magic.”

She shook her head. “I can’t.”

He sat up straighter holding her gaze as he spoke. “Yes, you can. I’ve seen the power inside of you.”

“No,” she said. “It’s gone. I can’t explain it, it’s like something is blocking it.”

That didn’t make sense. Emma’s magic couldn’t just be gone. And now suddenly Gold had magic? The man who had made it his mission to destroy it? A thought went through him like lightning.

“The amulet,” he said pointing to Gold. “It’s the amulet, it has to be. It was there the night of the revolt, he used it to capture your magic.”

She looked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?” she asked him.

Another crash sounded from the other side of the pillar.

“We need to get that amulet,” he told her.

Emma followed his gaze to the red amulet around Gold’s neck. She looked between him and Gold for a moment making her choice. She leaned in close, her hand on his shoulder as she pressed a quick kiss to his lips. He leaned into the feeling, holding her to him for a moment longer.

“I got this,” she said pulling back with a smirk. Killian watched her glance around the pillar to where Gold was still stalking around the ballroom.

She moved from their hiding spot and took a few steps forward advancing on Gold. He seemed to see her his expression turning hungry.

“Stay where you are,” Gold said his arm outstretched.

Emma continued to move toward him, her expression determined.

Gold slipped the amulet from around his neck and extended it toward her speaking some incantation. That red light burst from it, pulsing like a beating heart. Emma jerked, stopping and standing still. She looked as if she was trying to fight the amulet, but she was trapped. Her breath was coming in labored gasps as if the amulet’s hold was suffocating her, her hand coming up to press against her heart.

Killian pushed down the nauseous feeling roiling in his stomach, fighting the dizziness as he stood. He knew Emma thought she didn’t need him, that she needed to fight her battles as she always had, alone. But she wasn’t alone, and he wasn’t about to watch Gold drain and conquer her again.

If he was going to help Emma he needed an advantage, some kind of weapon to use against Gold.

He scanned the room, looking past the guests huddled around the edges of the room and crouched behind tables, to where a dozen blackguards stood guard at the doors. He had rumors for years that they carried modified pistols which fired rounds that released a pulse that dampered magic and caused a minor amnesia. They were made to render someone with magic powerless and make them forget why they wanted to resist the blackguards. It was how they had managed to capture so many people with magic over the years.

If he could get one now, he could subdue Gold enough to overpower him. It could give Emma the chance she needed. He ducked out from his place behind the pillar and placed himself in the path of two blackguards. Their mouths pulled into identical sneering grins as they saw him.

Killian bent to grab his dagger from where it lay on the ground raising it as they moved to pull masks down over their faces. Someday he was going to have to come up with a fight strategy that didn’t involve him being cannon fodder. They each pulled a pistol from beneath their cloaks. _Got you_ , he thought with a smirk as both pointed their weapons at him.

 

~*~

 

Emma felt like she was dying. Her lungs burned as she struggled to pull in any air. Her heart fluttered weakly in her chest. She felt as if each of her cells was being slowly shredded apart. Her mind a fog as she lost track of everything except the pain. She wanted to scream but there was no air and she couldn’t summon the strength.

Minutes ago she had been unable to summon her magic, it had been trapped beyond her reach, but now it was being torn from her. Pulled mercilessly from within her by the glowing amulet, and her body was desperately fighting against the loss of something so integral to her.

A cruel thought cut through her, what if this didn’t kill her? What if it took everything she had left of herself: the rest of her power, the rest of her memories, and left her only a shell?

She thought of those years she had spent barely surviving, starving for more than bread. She thought of the parents she had just gotten back, the family they could have been. She thought of Ruby, a better friend than she had ever had. And last she thought of Killian and everything they never had a chance to be.

As she thought of the people she loved the pull from the amulet eased for a moment. She gasped as air rushed back into her lungs, the magic in her veins lighting up to protect her. Holding on to the feeling within her heart as she looked up at Gold. He was staring open mouthed from her to the amulet flickering in his hand as if he couldn’t understand why it had stopped working against her.

She felt her magic at last pumping through her just beneath her skin. Gold cowered back a little further as she reached him and grabbed a fistful of his jacket. He stumbled in her hold his eyes wide.

She wrenched the amulet from him.

He fell back a step holding up a hand his expression pleading. “No, don’t,” he warned.

She held the amulet between her hands feeling the pulse of the power held within it like a beating heart. She concentrated all her magic into her fingertips pressing on the smooth surface of the amulet. She looked from the fear in Gold’s wide eyes as he backed away to Killian running across the room toward her yelling something and last to her parents and Ruby.

Emma pressed the amulet between her palms willing all of herself to flow through her hands into it. She felt it shudder in her hold and then she felt it crack and break. A surge of magic poured from her and rippled through the room. It swirled around her bright and blinding, and it surrounded her, a shimmering cocoon. Her hands shook and the amulet slipped through her fingers and fell to the floor striking it and shattering into a thousand pieces.

Emma wrapped her arms around herself, standing among the powdered remains of the amulet and gasped. Magic crackled through her, unbridled and free at last. The full weight of her power unleashed from the prison of the amulet and racing through her.

She could feel the eyes of everyone in the room on her, she could sense their hearts beating within their chests, she could hear their every breath. In that moment she was connected to everyone and everything, the world was suddenly infinite and at once completely known to her. She felt each of the stones in the walls, she could feel the light from every candle in the wide chandeliers above her, and she knew all the stars shining from the sky outside. She could see it all in perfect clarity even behind her closed eyes. Her entire being was opened in a way she had never been.

Her new awareness turned from the vast universe inward. And where there had been walls inside her mind, a foggy haze, and only sparse glimpses of her past, she suddenly could see it all. The amulet had released all her lost memories. She saw her life as it had been years ago, all her forgotten memories from before the revolt. Each memory clear and intense and new and yet achingly familiar.

She saw her life in startling light. The rich castle on the hill that had been her home, the routine of what her life had been. The way the sunlight had slanted through the curtains into her bedroom every morning. The smiles of the staff as she ran clumsily through the halls. The chatter of the others in the castle, all of it waking up around her, a thousand lives connected in that place, alive once more in her mind. She could remember the countless hours spent with her mother, the gentle way she explained the world, the love that never dimmed no matter what trouble Emma had caused. And she could remember the way her father made her laugh, the way she had thought he was bravest person in the world, the way he taught her to be bold, to never back down from what had to be done.

But she also remembered when the darkness had started to creep into her life. The way she had sat on the sill of her window whispering to the moon about how she was worried. She remembered the time just before the revolt, the shadows that gathered in the faces of everyone around her, the conversations that ended abruptly when she entered the room. She remembered the sense that everyone was keeping a secret from her.

And she remembered that night, the explosions coming from within the palace walls. She remembered looking back at the castle burning on the hill, the flicker of flames behind the windows, like an eerie jack-o-lantern. Now she could remember running to the docks. The sight of the ship that had been meant to take them away, so close, and yet she had never made it onboard.

She could see the blackguards in the memories of her younger self. The way they had towered over her. She could still feel the fear that flooded through her that night, how she had broken when she had seen her parents hurt. She remembered the way her magic had tried to save her, but it been the clumsy attempt of a young girl. No match to the blackguards and their inventions.

Slowly other memories came back to her, hands that had picked her up from the planks of the docks and carried her to safety. A comforting voice, a solid strength beside her as she had fought to regain consciousness.

In her memories she could see Gold in front of her in an alley, the amulet in his hand as he wielded it the same way he had tonight, to capture her magic. She remembered struggling against its powerful magnetic hold, desperate to break from its grip.

But she hadn’t been alone. There had been a boy. She could see him in her memories as he lunged at the blackguards, bleeding from the hand cradled to his chest,  his blue eyes meeting hers for the briefest moment. An ally to her, he had created a distraction and seizing her opportunity she had run. She had run never looking back. Run past exhaustion, run until she had collapsed, passed into a dead sleep so deep she hadn’t even known who was when she woke.

But now she knew the truth, all the years she had cried herself to sleep longing for a family, frustrated that no one had ever come. She hadn’t known that someone had come, someone had saved her when she needed it most. A boy with black hair and bright blue eyes, a boy with a broken hand and a whispered promise he never broke. It had been Killian, and she owed him more than she ever imagined.

She looked up and met his eyes as he reached her. His hands gripped hers as he studied her palms as if smashing the amulet might have hurt her, as if he didn’t realize that it had finally healed her.

“Emma?” he asked seeing her expression.

“It was you,” she breathed.

He looked confused and a little concerned. He was still looking for some injury.

She tightened her hold on his hands, the feeling making him look up. His blue eyes, unchanged by the years, meeting hers.

“I remember you,” she said.

He looked confused for a second before his expression changed as he understood. He stepped back half a step.

She wanted to stop him from pulling away. She wanted to hold him close. Whatever had been holding her back from him had been shattered with the amulet. All of her was remade and new, unarmored and unhidden. It made her want to feel everything completely and live with her whole self as she had never been able to before.

But she didn’t get a chance to tell him everything because a low laugh broke the silence from across the room. She tore her eyes from Killian turning to where Gold was standing with a line of blackguards behind him.

“Gold,” she said moving forward her back straight, her eyes locked on him, flexing her hands. “I suggest you leave, leave this realm and never return. You are guilty of many crimes and have caused so much suffering. If you will not leave willingly then you will be punished for everything you have done.”

Gold didn’t look scared by her words. Not with the blackguards at his back. He was used to people shrinking and cowering before him.

“You have no authority here,” he said with a sneer. “You have no power to make me do anything.”

Emma smirked her hands curling into fists. “No power?” she repeated with a small tilt of her head.

She opened her hands to reveal the flare of light and magic that flowed through them.  A few of the blackguards shifted uneasily.

“You took everything from me,” she said channeling that emotion. “Surrender or I will show you exactly what that feels like.”

“You can’t defeat me,” Gold said. “I am more than a man, I am an idea. And that cannot simply be banished or killed.”

He raised his hands pushing them out toward her, but nothing happened, no rush of magic, no blast. One of the blackguards raised his weapon his finger squeezing the trigger but there was no response. He turned the weapon over in his hand as if wondering why it had stopped working. Gold’s hand moved to his chest where the amulet had once sat before seeming to realize his mistake. The amulet was gone, he could no longer channel its power, Emma’s power.

Emma looked into the face of the man before her. The flicker of fear behind his eyes for the first time. She saw the look of the small man who had stood on others, who had pushed down others to rise. She saw a coward.

Light leapt from her arching through the air, shining off the smooth marble floors reflecting rainbows onto the walls. Gold ducked, but the light twisted around him, binding his wrists. Behind him the blackguards scrambled back, some dropping their weapons and raising their hands in surrender.

Emma let the light fade as she reached Gold. She let a couple royal guards pull Gold roughly to his feet and drag him off. A few of the crowd helped them round up the blackguards and they were led away following after Gold.

Emma drew in a long breath feeling as if a great weight had been lifted from her shoulders. A wrong from long ago in her life set right, not undone, but perhaps now able to heal. She turned to where her parents were standing looking at her with matching expressions of amazement and love. At last she had her family again.


	9. And a Song Someone Sings

Emma tried to organize the scattered pieces of her life back into something recognizable as she glanced around at the assembled crowd beaming and clapping and bowing to her, at the faces of her long lost parents, the King and Queen of Misthaven. It all fit with her memories, but still so much of this wasn’t familiar after years away from this life, this world. She stood on shaking legs as she faced it all. And again, as she had many times tonight, she felt as though she was falling with nothing to hold onto.

Scrambling for anything concrete she gripped the hand of her father, but it only brought the realization that his were not the hands the hands she wanted steadying her. There was someone else she wanted at her side. Someone who had already become a fixture in her life, slowly slipping past her walls until his absence left her strangely empty.

She looked around, searching the crowd, the sea of faces, but he was missing. She scanned the room again and again, worry creeping in, he had promised to stay.

She was pulled along as she was introduced to many of the guests, nobility, diplomats, others who had fled Misthaven after the revolution. They all shook her hand, curtsied, and blushed. But the worst was when they thanked her. She forced smile after smile, always glancing over shoulders and between people trying to catch a glimpse of dark hair, blue eyes, or the devilish tilt of his smile. Probably about to appear and goad her with a mocking bow, but still he remained absent.

The night passed, the minutes stretching into hours and still she had not seen a glimpse of Killian or Ruby. Emma could feel the strain of using her magic, her recovered memories, and being reunited with her family wearing her down. She longed for a quiet corner or soft bed to let it all sink in for a moment away from the curious eyes of the crowd.

She was startled by a gentle nudge from her father beside her.

“Emma?” he said looking at her with a knowing expression. “You want to get out of here?”

She let out a relieved breath. “Yes, please,” she said returning his smile.

The King turned placing a hand on the Queen’s arm. She looked up, her gaze moving from him to Emma and back seeming to understand without a word. She gave a small nod before turning back to the man beside her.

“Mister Ambassador, might I interest you in another drink?” she asked him taking his arm to lead away.

Emma and her father used that opening to their advantage and slipped between the remaining guests to a side corridor off the ballroom.

“We’re just going to leave her?” Emma asked.

He smiled. “Don’t worry she can handle herself. Believe it or not some state dinners have been more unpredictable.”

“You had a magical fight break out at a state dinner?” Emma asked almost impressed.

“Well, not exactly,” her father said with a chuckle, “although there were some I wished one would.”

“Your Majesty,” a pair of guards greeted them. “We have the carriage coming around.”

“That’s alright, Murtagh,” he said waving them off. “Keep the carriage for the Queen. We’ll walk.”

The guards exchanged a look that said they weren’t thrilled with this idea, and that it definitely wasn’t the first time the King had insisted on something they didn’t agree with.

“At least take Young with you,” Murtagh said indicating the other guard. “After the events of the night you’ll forgive me for taking precautions.”

The King nodded. “Of course. Thank you, Young.”

The guard seemed relieved the King had consented so easily. Emma was fascinated by their dynamic and each new facet she learned about her parents and their lives. The way the guards clearly cared deeply for them, the way her father obviously respected them, and still the almost playful, begrudging way they accepted each other.

Young passed the King his cloak which he took but after a moment’s hesitation and a glance at Emma he laid the heavy material over her shoulders.

“It’s not a far walk,” he told her. “But I’ll not be losing my daughter to a cold after I just got her back.”

Emma looked away a little sheepish, she wasn’t sure she would ever get used to that kind of affection, having someone look at her with such blatant love, having someone take care of her. Having a family again.

Young checked the small pistol in his belt before he turned and led the way down the hall to a smaller less ornate side door. Emma was glad to have her father’s cloak once the cool night air hit her. Small flakes of snow drifted lazily down around them swirling lightly across the cobblestones with each step they took.

“I’m sorry, again,” Emma said as they followed Young across the wide plaza she had arrived at hours ago in Gold’s carriage with Killian and Ruby. It seemed like ages ago.

“Sorry for what?” her father asked.

Emma shrugged before realizing the movement was lost in the plush velvet of the cloak. “I didn’t mean to cause a scene during the ball,” she told him.

Perhaps that wasn’t entirely true. She had come to the ball planning on murdering them both. That would have caused quite a scene, albeit a rather different one.

He laughed, the sound deep and rich. It brought back memories of hot cocoa and roaring fires in carved fireplaces. It felt a bit like home. “Honestly it was a nice change of pace from how those normally go.” He turned to her placing his hands on her shoulders before he continued. “And you never have to apologize for finding your way back to us.”

Emma blinked feeling the burn of tears behind her eyes.

“Besides,” he said with a smirk, “our family has a certain proclivity for making a rather dramatic entrance.”

Emma smiled. She liked him. The thought was such a welcome one. All those years dreaming of a distant, far off, unknown family. She had tried to imagine her parents, the type of people they would be, what they did, why they left her. But she had never really stopped to wonder if she would like them, if she would be proud of them.

And now with so many newly uncovered memories coming back to her she tried to reconcile this man walking beside her now with the father she had known as a small girl. Her younger self had admired and revered him, he had been her shining knight and her partner for late night mischief. She looked at him now with different eyes, through the lens of years spent alone in a harsh world, and still she could feel those emotions, their deep connection, as well as a newer affection.

Their stroll ended at a beautiful townhouse on a corner just across the plaza from where the ball had been held. Emma followed the others into the cozy entry. The townhouse was warm, not just from the fires crackling in the fireplaces, but from the comfortable furniture and personal touches. It wasn’t like the cold calculated ornate feel of Gold’s house, or the ransacked castle in Misthaven, or even the small houses she had stayed in as she grew up alone. This place was a home.

“I’m starving. Food at those things is never satisfying,” her father said helping her shrug off his cloak. “What do you say?”

“Sure,” Emma nodded. “I haven’t eaten.”

He waved at her to follow him as he made his way down the narrow hall to the back of the house. The kitchen was small, the walls lined by cabinets and wooden countertops with nicks and stains from many meals prepared over the years.

He hummed as he picked his way through the pantry weighing items in his hand, sometimes holding one up and glancing at her for approval. Eventually he brought over his haul and laid it out on the small butcher’s block in the center of the room.  A block of cheese, a few slices of sausage, a handful of sweet smelling fruits she didn’t recognize and a large blueberry pie with a couple slices already eaten from it.

They pulled over chairs settling in. Emma pushed her flowing skirts out of the way, the gown making her feel extremely overdressed in the small room. The shimmering fabric looked out of place here away from the sparkling chandeliers and full orchestra.

“Try the pie,” her father said already pushing a plate toward her with a large piece.

Emma picked up a fork and took a small bite. The tart berries and pastry melting on her tongue. She let out a small groan that made him laugh as he served himself.

“So this is what it’s like being a princess,” she murmured around another delicious bite.

A little sadness crept into his smile. Her words a reminder of everything they had missed. Something in his expression made her wonder if he too was trying to see the small girl he had known within the person she had become. This was an adjustment for him too.

They spent the next hours talking and joking and getting reacquainted. She told him about her adventure leaving Misthaven and traveling to find them, she told him about Ruby and Killian. And he told her a little about what had happened to them since the revolt, although neither of them strayed too far into the darker parts of their times spent apart. Most of the pie was gone when they finally slowed, both of them having long abandoned the plates to take bites straight from the pan with their forks.

Emma leaned back in her chair feeling more full than she could remember and relishing in the quiet calm that settled over her. It was more than the drowsy feeling of a large meal, it was like the relief at finally being able to rest after being awake too long.

“We don’t have to wait up for your mother,” her father said noticing her slumped posture and heavy eyelids. “She may be held up awhile longer.”

Emma felt a flurry of nerves rush through her. “Can I,” she paused, even after everything still afraid of being rejected, “can I stay here?”

“Of course, Emma,” he said reaching over to hold her hands between his. “You’re home now.”

Emma didn’t remember if she helped put away any leftover food. She didn’t remember being shown to a room upstairs. She didn’t remember taking off her gown. But she remembered falling into a bed softer than a cloud and snuggling into thick blankets. She remembered thinking it was the most comfortable bed she had ever been in, and still there was a small nagging part of her that yearned for something else. A different bed she had slept in days before, well perhaps not the bed but the feeling of someone sleeping beside her. She woke the next morning her arm stretched out to an empty side of the bed.

When she got up she found a dress in the large armoire in the room. It was much simpler than her dress from the ball, but still it was finer than what she was used to. She craned her neck trying to reach around to get it properly laced. It made her miss her simpler clothes that had been left in Gold’s mansion. Perhaps someone might be able to go get them for her.

She ran a brush through her hair and braided it over her shoulder before making her way downstairs. She paused when she heard voices in the dining room, one she recognized as her mother.

Emma peered around the doorframe a little nervous. The Queen was seated at the table with a man in a suit. They had a stack of papers between them that they were paying more attention to than the spread of food laid out beside them.

“Your Majesty, this isn’t something we can contain,” the man was telling her. “With all the witnesses it’s already in papers as far away as Arendelle.”

Her mother sighed tapping the pen in her hand against one of the papers. “Isn’t there anything we can do? This isn’t what I would have wanted. I didn’t know she would be at the ball.”

Emma froze realizing they were talking about her. And then the words started to sink in.  _This isn’t what I would have wanted._  She felt her heart sink and crack. It wasn’t that she had expected a grand fanfare and parade or anything, but hearing her mother say she didn’t want her was worse than she would have thought possible. She had been cast off and left behind over and over, no one wanting to take responsibility for her. But this was different. This she hadn’t braced herself for. Usually she could tell when someone was going to leave or tell her to move on, there was a way they always pulled away before doing it. This time she hadn’t seen the warning signs. Her mother and father had seemed to happy to see her last night at the ball. The way they had hugged her, the love she could have sworn she had seen in their eyes. The hours she had spent with her father last night. What had changed? What had she done wrong?

“We just have to come up with a plan from here,” the man said pulling out another page from his stack.

The Queen pursed her lips before nodding. “I just don’t want Emma thrown into all this right away. We just got her back, I’ll be damned if any journalist, or Industrialist sympathizer, or anyone else runs her off again. I just would have wanted a chance to ease her into everything and let her decide how and if she wanted to be a part of this. I don’t want to scare her off when I just got her back. ”

Emma must have made a small noise because they both looked up and saw her in the doorway.

“Emma,” her mother said standing and almost running around the table to her. She reached up to Emma and pulled her into a tight hug.

Emma could feel the hot tears slipping down her cheeks as she clung to her mother. She wished she could say she hadn’t truly thought for a moment that her mother wouldn’t want her, but all she could manage in that moment was memorizing the feeling of her mother’s arms around her.

When they pulled apart the Queen was looking over her thoughtfully taking in every detail of her face.

“You’re so grown,” she said softly her fingers brushing her plaited hair. “When did you grow up?”

Emma gave her a small smile not sure what to say. She supposed there wasn’t anything to say. There was nothing now either of them could do to change the past.

Her mother gave her hand a squeeze before leading her over to the table. She shuffled the papers they had been attending to earlier aside.

“You hungry?” she asked waving to the dishes on the table.

Emma shrugged. “I ate a lot last night.”

Her mother smirked. “Yeah, I heard about that. I’m glad you liked my pie, I’ve been working on that recipe.”

“You made that pie?” Emma asked in surprise. “The Queen baking her own desserts?”

She waved off the comment her tone more somber when she answered. “We’ve made a lot of changes over the years.”

“I’m sorry I’ve caused a problem for you with my sudden reappearance,” Emma said looking between her mother and the man beside her.

Her mother shook her head, “You are not a problem, Emma. This is just to make sure we control the situation and we protect you.”

Emma grabbed a few grapes from the plate beside her popping one into her mouth. She tried to sound casual as she asked, “Has anyone come looking for me?”

She thought again of Killian, even Ruby. Where were they? Where they stayed last night? She wanted to talk to them.

The Queen reached out to squeeze her hand. “Don’t worry, Emma, we have taken security precautions to be sure none of the blackguards or Industrialists can get to you here.”

“We have an excellent staff, Your Highness,” the man at the table said also misunderstanding her question.

Emma simply nodded and tried to look adequately relieved. She decided to drop her inquiry, it was still early, perhaps they would come by that afternoon. She should have expected some fallout from last night, this wasn’t a sign something was wrong. Maybe she would try to send them a message later.

Emma was welcomed into the discussion about what statement to release to the public. It seemed every single word had to be chosen carefully, weighed, labored over. She found her attention wandering as they nitpicked over the phrasing.

“We need some sort of explanation about how Princess Emma got to the ball,” the man said jotting a few scribbles into the margins of his notes.

Emma glanced up at the mention of her name and found her mother looking at her expectantly.

She let out a sigh and a shrug. “I’m not sure you want to print the truth,” she told them. She wasn’t sure any amount of wordsmithing would smooth over the idea that she had come to the ball with Gold’s help to the murder the King and Queen. “Maybe just say I was given an invitation and I went in the hopes of meeting the King and Queen.”

“That’s good,” the man said writing furiously again. “We’ll focus on the family reunion.”

Her mother nodded. “We’ll stress just how pleased we are to have Emma with us again. After too many years our family is back together. It’s what we have all wanted for so long.”

Emma frowned unable to stop herself from asking the question that had been burning in her for so long. “Why didn’t you try to find me all those years?”

Any fine words they chose would not change the past. It would never fully heal the part of her that been broken for so long. All that time she had wanted her family but didn’t know where to start because she couldn’t remember them. She couldn’t silence the whisper in head that reminded her that they hadn’t lost their memories. They could have come, but they hadn’t.

“Oh, Emma, we did,” her mother said. “They had to drag me away that awful night. I wanted to stay to find you, but your father was injured and it was getting more dangerous by the minute on the docks. I didn’t waste a second when we landed in Camelot, we sent out anyone who was left to get word to Misthaven to try to find you. We never heard back from any of them, I can only imagine what happened. And with each day of silence I thought I was going to lose my mind. I wanted to go myself and march straight back there. I was sure if I went I could find you because you were my daughter and if anyone could find you it would be me, it should have been me. But they wouldn’t let me and your father needed me. It turns out Queens cannot do whatever they want, and I learned quickly I wasn’t a Queen anymore, I had no home, no people, no daughter. I was alone in a foreign place suddenly powerless, hunted, and in danger.”

Emma watched as she took a shaking breath.

“Within a few months the borders were closed and then no news came from Misthaven at all. We bribed the merchants and ship crews for any information. And with each shipment came more distressing news, the regulations and new laws, the purges of everyone we had known, everyone we left behind when we ran. Each report made me feel more guilty. But still there was never any news of you. No one had heard even a rumor of what might have happened to you. And then we started to hear that they were rounding up and executing anyone with magic. I started to panic, I thought they would find you. I had watched for years as your magic grew and matured within you. I was sure the way the Industrialists were demonizing magic and hunting down anyone one possessing it was an attempt to find you. If they couldn’t get anyone to turn you over to them then they would use your magic to capture you. And I hoped in some dark place within me that it meant they thought you were still out there, still alive.

“When your father was healed we left Camelot. It was clear they were not willing to risk a war to help us. We secretly moved from kingdom to kingdom. Always treated as honored guests, but with every passing day I felt our welcome wear and with each denied request from every country for help to find you, to help free Misthaven from the Industrialists I started to lose hope. Finally after all these years we found a foothold here in Glowerhaven. With a measure of security here we spread the news that we were alive and that we would pay handsomely for any information about you. At first reports rained in, suddenly people had seen you everywhere. We even had a few girls come to us claiming to be you. Apparently they had been coached on what to say to try to convince us. It was ridiculous.”

Emma looked down at her hands twisting in her lap and tried not to look guilty.

“Emma,” her mother said, waiting until she looked up. “I would have never stopped looking for you. I’m so sorry we didn’t find you sooner. I want you to know we never gave up and we never meant to leave you. I have always loved you more than anything.”

Emma suddenly remembered something. “Wait here,” she said getting up and hurrying from the dining room back to where her things were in her bedroom.

She knelt down beside where her gown from last night was draped over a chair and dug beneath the voluminous skirt until she found her small clutch. She flipped it over and dumped the ring inside into her palm.

When she made it back her mother was still seated in her chair seeming mildly concerned at the way Emma had run off. She sat back beside her and laid the ring softly on the table.

“This is yours,” Emma said.

Her mother drew in a sharp breath her hand reaching out slowly, as if afraid if she moved too quickly the ring would disappear. Her fingertips brushed the smooth metal of the band and carefully lifted it weighing it in her palm. Her eyes slipped closed as she pushed the ring onto her finger.

There were fresh tears in her eyes when she opened them to meet Emma’s gaze. “Thank you, Emma. I thought this was lost.”

Emma shook her head. “Killian found it, he gave it back to me before the ball. You told me it would lead me back home.”

Her mother let out a small laugh. “I did. I hadn’t meant for it to be so hard. I’m just glad you’re here now, that we have you back. We are a family again.”

Emma swallowed thickly trying to hold back her own tears. It was what she had wanted for so long.  “I missed you, even when I couldn’t remember you,” she said.

Her mother just pulled her into another hug.

Next few days passed in a blur. Her time was no longer her own, a dizzying dance of new expectations and tasks. Suddenly there were people helping her with everything, things she used to do just fine on her own. There was a maid to help her dress. Someone else to bring her food whenever she wanted any. Another would wash all the dishes and all of her clothes. There was always someone there asking if she needed anything. And that wasn’t even counting the people who came on official business. She learned that the man who had been a breakfast with her mother that first morning was a Head of Relations or some similar title.

There were meetings with dignitaries from other lands. She was also introduced to people who had helped and been friends to her parents. Each time it was a struggle to remember when to shake hands or when a bow was more appropriate, when she should speak up and when she was expected to be present but not participate. The etiquette was a nightmare. And most of the people she met, hell, most of the people she had contact with all day long just gawked at her. As if trying to measure her up to the girl she had been, to her parents, or to some wild expectation they had for her.

She was starting to understand the realities of being a member of a royal family. And a displaced royal family at that. She had asked several times if there were any plans to return to Misthaven and help the people there, especially now that Gold was in custody. Each time she was met with sad almost patronizing looks as if she wouldn’t understand. And she wanted to scream that she had been in Misthaven all the years they all had been lying low in safe kingdoms. She knew the Industrialists were dangerous and would only become more so now that they were destabilized and leaderless. But over and over she was told that things had to be done carefully, diplomatically. It seemed above all being a royal meant following protocol set down by generations long ago, and protocol didn’t involve running back to Misthaven.

It wasn’t back breaking work like hauling nets of fish or clearing plots of land, but every night she was exhausted from the energy of so remembering many new faces, the smiles and small talk, trying to keep up with talks about politics, and trying to remember to curtsy the way Ruby had taught her.

As happy as she was to be with her family and surrounded by a love she hadn’t thought possible, she found in the quiet moments she kept turning to look for support from someone who was not there.

It was just over a week before she saw a familiar face. She was summoned to the front parlor of the townhouse. Emma had been expecting to meet some exiled Duke or prominent merchant, but her forced smile crumbled as she entered the room and saw Ruby standing there.

“Ruby!” she gasped running to her and pulling her into a hug. “What are you doing here?”

“I thought I ought to pay my respects to the royal family,” she said pulling back and looking Emma over.

Emma watched her take in the new clothes, the jeweled earrings someone had laid out for her to wear that morning.

“I’m glad you found what you were looking for, Princess,” Ruby said.

Emma worked to keep from frowning, there was something in her words and tone that sounded to Emma’s ears almost like a lie. Some subtle edge to them. It wasn’t like Ruby to be duplicitous, she had shown herself time and again to be someone who had no trouble speaking her mind.

But before she could ask Ruby if something was wrong she saw her eyes shift over Emma’s shoulder. Emma turned to see the Queen joining them.

“Ruby,” her mother said walking over to clasp her hand and place a kiss on Ruby’s cheek. “I was so pleased to hear you were here and well. And then to hear you helped Emma, I’m not sure how to thank you.”

Ruby shook her head. “There’s no need to thank me.”

“Your grandmother was one of my closest and dearest friends,” the Queen said. “I hope our families will continue to be close.”

Ruby glanced at Emma before she nodded. “I’d like that too, Your Majesty.”

The Queen followed the glance and seemed to sense something unresolved between them. “I’ll just get the reward together,” she said excusing herself.

Emma waited until her mother left the room to speak. “Do you know where Killian is?”

Ruby’s lips pressed into a thin line. Emma knew she would know exactly where he was, and again Emma got the sense that Ruby was hiding something from her. Emma couldn’t understand her hesitation. Had she done something to upset Killian? Was that why he hadn’t attempted to see her?

Emma decided she wasn’t above begging. “I haven’t seen him since the ball. Please, I just want to know he’s alright.”

Ruby seemed to gauge her expression, passing some silent judgement.

“He’s left for the coast,” she said at last.

“He left?” Emma breathed, the words tasting wrong on her lips. She didn’t want them to be true.

“He’s shipping out with one of the merchant galleon crews,” Ruby told her.

A panic clawed at Emma’s heart. She hadn’t realized until the words fell like weights in her stomach that she had been assuming that Killian would be around when she was ready, when her mangled heart was ready to explore whatever they might be. Had she waited too long?

“He must be waiting to get the reward money,” Emma said gesturing at the doorway her mother had disappeared through.

Ruby gave a small shake of her head. “He leaves tomorrow.”

“But he wouldn’t leave you,” Emma said her tone a little desperate.

“We did everything we set out to do,” Ruby said. “Our old life is gone now. All we can do now is start over, try something new. Your mother offered to give me a position, but Killian, he wanted something else.”

“He could stay too,” Emma said at once. “We would find something for him. Any position he wants.”

Ruby leveled her with a look. “Come on, Emma. You know he wouldn’t do well confined by the constraints of royal court.”

Emma opened her mouth to protest but shut it with a soft click, the muscle in her jaw feathering. Ruby was right. These last few days she had thought multiple times that things had been easier when she had been operating outside the law. When she had been in control of her actions and decisions. The time she had spent with Killian and Ruby had been freeing in a way she hadn’t experienced before, in a way she was starting to realize she missed. Ruby was right, Killian would hate the slow pace of diplomacy, the ironic powerless feeling of being a leader.

The realization made her new life feel suddenly constricting. Like she was trapped all over again.

“You’re right,” Emma said softly. “I have to let him go.”

Ruby reached out her hand gripping Emma’s arm. “That wasn’t-”

“Here you are,” the Queen said returning and cutting Ruby off. They both turned to her as she laid a small chest on the desk. “It’s all here.”

Ruby avoided Emma’s eye as she moved to the desk. “Thank you, your Majesty.”

“You have our deepest gratitude. I’ll be in touch with you soon.”

Ruby nodded. She reached for the chest before pausing and picking up a pen and slip of paper from the desk. She wrote a quick note and pressed it into Emma’s hand before giving her a hug.

“So you know,” she said nodding to the paper. And then she picked up the chest and left.

Emma watched her go before she slowly opened her hand and read the note in Ruby’s looping handwriting.  _The Swan and Anchor Boarding House. Capetown._

Emma could feel her mother’s eyes on her as she refolded the note and closed it into her fist.

“That for your young man?” her mother asked.

Emma glanced up feeling a small blush heat her cheeks. “What?”

“The handsome one from the ball. He fought beside you.”

Emma considered lying for a moment before she slowly nodded. “He’s leaving,” she said holding up the note for her to see.

Her mother was silent for a moment her fingers moving to worry at the ring on her finger. The green stone winked in the sunlight. Emma watched as her mother slowly slipped the ring from her finger and for a second time held it out to her.

“This ring,” she said, “all those years ago I told you it would lead you home.”

Emma nodded, she could remember it clearly now. That conversation in the tunnels before they had run to the docks. The fear that had gripped her then, the way her mother had bent down to her level and the steady way she had spoken to her.

“It has protected my family and brought my daughter home, and for that I will be forever thankful,” she continued. “But that isn’t all I said that night. This ring also brings together true love. It has for generations of this family. It has a way of pointing us in the right direction even when we don’t see it, and our family can be quite stubborn.”

Emma watched in surprise as her mother passed the ring to her as she had all those years ago.

“This ring brought me to your father. It has been a symbol of our love for a long time. But I think it’s time it lived a new chapter. I think perhaps it has already brought you to someone special.”

“Mom,” Emma said the word choked on a sob.

“Go,” she said with a smile. “Go find him.”

“I can’t just leave,” Emma protested.

Her mother placed her hands on her shoulders. “This,” she gestured around. “Your father and I, it will all be here whenever you get back. And no matter what you decide about your role, your future, whatever part you want to play, that is a decision that doesn’t have to be made now. But that young man, if I heard correctly, he’s leaving tomorrow so you can’t waste time. You never know when you’ll have to wait over a decade to see someone again.”

Emma slid the ring on, staring at way it sat perfectly on her finger.

She gave her mother a hug. “Thank you.”

Her mother gave her a loving smile before shooing her. Emma grabbed her coat in the hall tucking the piece of paper into the pocket before rushing out the door and saddling one of the horses in the stables.


	10. Someone Holds Me Safe and Warm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Well, this is the end. It’s so surreal. But it feels right to be ending this story on the first of December!_
> 
> _I cannot express how much this whole experience has made me grow as a writer and as a member of the fandom. This is the longest story I have ever completely drafted and written. There were days, even months, I didn’t think this would ever make it and see the light of day. It definitely wouldn’t have without the amazing support of the other Big Bang writers, betas, artists, and admins! I want to say a huge thank you and a huge congrats to everyone who took part this year as I sign off here._
> 
> _As always thank you to everyone who has read, liked, left kudos, reblogged, commented, gushed, reached out, and enjoyed this story! You have made this experience what it was!! I love you all so much! Hopefully this chapter will be a worthy thank you and a little cherry on top for everyone who stuck it out this far!!_
> 
> _Thank you again from the bottom of my heart!_

Emma spurred her horse on quicker. The road was starting to slope downward along the tall cliffs of the coast. Already she could smell the brine of the sea and feel the salty spray on the air from the crashing waves below.

She had heard stories about Capetown from the grizzled and worn sailors in the fishing village she had lived in. It was a fabled pirate stronghold nestled into a rocky bay that was plagued by mermaids. It was said that the mermaids had caused such a problem for sailors that it had greatly helped speed the transition to airships. Many shipping companies realizing their cargos were safer in the skies than navigating the bay. However Glowerhaven had not taken to the new technology like Misthaven had, and Capetown still remained an important harbor for seagoing ships.

The sun was setting into the waves on the horizon painting the sky in golds and reds when Emma started to see the lights of the town up ahead. Her hand drifted to the pocket of her coat with the slip of paper from Ruby.

Capetown was a village of closely packed houses and buildings with wooden siding, white shutters, and steeply pitched roofs. Gulls cried out from where they perched on the chimneys. The town seemed to have been influenced by centuries of profitable sea trade. There were crushed shells on the roads and walkways and the stores all seemed to be selling nets and ropes and other sailing supplies. There were signs hanging above doors advertising shipping companies and whalers. Outside most of the doors and hanging along the street were lanterns lit with flickering flames. It gave a softer light than the gas lamps she was used to in Misthaven.

Emma slid down from the saddle to lead her horse down the busy streets. Even after dark there were still people milling around, moving into the taverns and haggling over prices of crates of goods outside warehouses and shops.

She stopped a young woman on her way past. “Excuse me, can you tell me where the Swan and Anchor is?”

She pointed up the street. “You’re nearly there. It’s just up the street, closer to the docks. You’ll know it by the sign and the bright blue door. Take care there, that place is famous for a slightly unsavory crowd.”

Unsavory crowds were becoming something of a specialty for her lately.

“I’ll be fine, thank you for your help,” Emma said making her way quicker up the street.

The Swan and Anchor was a sprawling building that stretched more than half a block. It was three stories high, its face dotted with many windows and even spaced dormers rising from the slanting roof. And as described it had two wide bright blue doors thrown open to the night air and there was a group of people loitering at the entrance.

Emma led her horse around to the stable behind the boarding house.

“I’ll need a stall for the night,” Emma told the stable boy. “Give him as much water and hay as he wants.”

“Room number?” the boy asked taking the lead rope from her

“I’m not sure, I’m meeting a friend,” she said. The boy didn’t seem impressed by that answer. Emma dug into her pocket and pulled out a few silver coins and passed them to him. “Will that cover it?”

The boy stared for a moment before he hurriedly stuffed the silver into his jacket. “I’ll see to him right away, Miss,” he said leading her horse back into the rows of stalls.

Emma made her way out of the stable and followed the path around to the entrance of the boarding house. She edged between the people standing there ignoring their looks and sneers. She felt a familiar unease settle in her stomach, that feeling of not belonging. These calculating glances were different from all the stares she had endured the last few days beside her parents but they still made her feel alien. She suddenly wished she had changed into less conspicuous clothes before she left.

She followed the noise to large parlor that seemed to be used as a bar of some kind. There were groups seated at tables laid heavy with mugs of drink, coin and cards, and others grouped loosely around one of the women dressed in brightly colored dresses that hang low on their frames giving wanting eyes plenty to look at.

Emma made her way to the bar and flagged over the woman serving drinks. “I’m looking for someone staying here,” she said.

The woman popped the cap on a bottle of rum before pouring a glass for one of the patrons. “You’ll have to be more specific, we have a lot of rooms, lass.”

“His name is Killian Jones.”

The woman paused looking up at her for a moment a smile tugged at her lips. “He’s got them pretty blue eyes, yeah?” she asked.

Accurate enough. Emma nodded and the woman pointed above them. “Second floor, room 204.”

Emma left a silver piece on the bar for her help and wove her way through the other patrons to the set of stairs tucked at the back of the room. The second floor was little more than a dimly lit hallway with rows of doors leading to rooms. She paused in front of the door marked 204 feeling suddenly nervous. She had raced across Glowerhaven to stop him before he left but now she found herself hesitating. What if there was a reason he never came to see her after the ball? What if he didn’t want anything to do with her now that she was a princess?

She closed her eyes and held her breath as she lifted her hand and knocked on the door. She stepped back once it was done and waited, her pulse echoing in her ears as if she were underwater.

She heard the lock unlatch and then the door opened. Killian stood there looking less put-together than she had ever seen him. His hair was disheveled and he wasn’t wearing his leather greatcoat or a waistcoat. Instead his linen shirt hung loose over his shoulders the buttons down the front open almost to his navel. Emma glanced away at the sight.

“Emma?” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“I was looking for you,” she told him.

He frowned glancing both ways up the hallway. “You shouldn’t be wandering around here alone,” he said waving her forward. “Come inside.”

She moved past him over the threshold and a few steps into the room. Her eyes took in the bed in the corner, the small desk beneath the window, the candles on the desk and bedside table, the open book laid out beside the candles as if he had put it down to answer the door.

“Why are you here, Your Highness?” he asked her once the door was closed.

She turned to face him, his tone and use of her title surprising her. She had prepared for a few different ways he might react to her chasing him down, but this formality wasn’t one of them. For a moment they stood in silence as she scrambled for what to say. She wondered if it wouldn’t be easier if he simply read her thoughts and intentions as he had so many times in the past and saved her the trouble of the speech she had practiced over and over on the ride here.

“Ruby told me you were leaving,” she said as a start.

He nodded. “How is Ruby?”

“She’s been offered a position working with my mother. She came by this afternoon.”

Killian nodded again not quite meeting her eyes. He didn’t say anything in reply. Emma could feel her frustration rising. Why was he being so distant? So cold? Was he going to react to anything she told him? Did any of it matter to him?

“She misses you,” Emma said trying a new tactic. “You’re running away from something good. Something that made you happy.”

She wasn’t even sure she was talking about Ruby anymore. The words just rushing out of her before she could stop them.

“You need each other,” she finished.

That seemed to hit its mark. Killian rounded on her. “What do you know about what I need?”

Emma faltered at his sharp tone. “You don’t need to leave,” she told him.

“I can’t stay,” he said bitterly.

Emma shook her head taking a step closer to him, a step she saw him watch carefully. “I know it’s different here, and it’s all new, but we can find a place for you. You’ll have your cut of the reward money, you’re a rich man now. You can start a new life. You could be in charge of trade or customs or whatever you want.”

He blew out a breath, his hand running over his face. “That’s just it. I don’t want your money, and I don’t want a place in your parents’ employ. I don’t want to be a Head of State or Secretary of Trade. I don’t want that.”

His words hung in the air as the silence stretched. She watched him, trying to understand.

“What do you want?” she asked softly.

He looked up with that same unreadable expression she had seen several times in his eyes. It was only now that she recognized it as longing, desire,  _love_. “Don’t you know, Emma?” he asked her his voice hitching on her name.

He didn’t need to say the words because she did know. She had known for longer than she had allowed herself to admit. It was what she wanted too.

“Then why?” she asked him waving a hand. “Why are you running?”

“Emma,” he said her name almost like a plea, a plea for mercy. His gaze moved over her face as if he were memorizing it and she could sense him retreating from her.

His hand reached out to touch her hair where it lay against her shoulder, a familiar gesture. But she watched his eyes as his expression became an impassive mask, armor against the injury he thought was coming. He was preparing for her to break him.

“I know how the world works,” he said. “There are things that can’t be changed.”

She frowned. “What are you talking about?”

He tossed his head letting out a sound of frustration. “Come on, I’m not-,” he sighed before continuing, “I’m a criminal, a con, a forger. I’ve done things I’m not proud of, things that shouldn’t be forgiven. I’d be thrown in jail, or worse, if I set foot back in Misthaven. We are from different worlds. You have your family now, a good family, a future, a purpose and a duty. You don’t need something weighing you down. And that is what I would be, a scar on your new life.”

She stared at him incredulously. She could tell he genuinely believed what he was saying, that he thought in some way he didn’t deserve her. As if someone who was so brave, who had risked everything to help her and others, and someone who had saved her life over and over could be below her. As if she wasn’t going to spend the rest of her life trying to be as good as he had showed her she could be.

“So sailing off on some ship to who-knows-where is going to fix that?” she asked him.

When he didn’t answer she pressed on.

“You did what you had to do to survive, so did I, but we aren’t the people we used to be. That past is only a piece of who we are, and I will always choose to see the best in you. You’ve made me stronger, braver, kinder, and that is what we can be together. That is the future I want. The rest we will figure out as we go.”

He still looked a little uncertain, a part of him holding back. She decided to convince him the only way she had left. He was the one who was better with words anyway.

She closed the distance between them leaning up to capture his lips. He responded immediately, his arms folding her into him. It wasn’t like their first kiss, something quiet and almost shy, this was consuming and desperate. Both of them trying to keep hold of what they needed. She gripped the collar of his linen shirt as she pulled him even closer.

Heat coursed through her. The feeling of him against her was like a breath of fresh air after a week of drowning. She wanted to get lost in the moment, the feel of his fingers curled in her hair, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his skin, the beat of his heart under her hand. It was what she had been searching for so long, at last she had found her place, this… this felt like  _home_.

She hadn’t realized they were moving until her back shored up against the wall and she broke from him with a small gasp.

“Killian,” she breathed looking up at him.

He looked wrecked as his eyes moved between hers.

“I love you,” he told her.

She smiled widely, her hand coming up to his cheek. “I love you, Killian.”

He let out a shaking breath in relief and he leaned down, his forehead resting against hers. His eyes fell closed as though he were savoring the moment and the words echoing between them. It was a perfect peaceful moment but she wanted more.

Her hand trailed down his torso taking hold of the fabric of his shirt. His eyes snapped open as she pulled it from where it was tucked into his waistband. He watched her with a glint in his gaze as she ran her fingers along the hem.

There was a question in his eyes as he raised an eyebrow, but there was no hesitation in the way he raised his arms to help her when she lifted his shirt off in answer.

She allowed herself a few seconds to take in the sight. When she had stitched him up on the train she had tried not to stare at him. But now she traced the lines of lean muscle under his skin, she trailed her fingers through the hair on his chest, the line down past his navel. He glanced away as her hands moved up over his shoulders and down to his hands. He tried to pull his mechanical hand from her but she gently took hold of it.

She hated the way he looked ashamed. Slowly, holding his gaze, she lifted it and pressed a kiss to the cool metal of his palm. This didn’t make him a monster, it was a symbol of how much he had sacrificed to help her, a connection to the worst night of their lives, a devotion she hoped to repay.

Emotion swelled in his eyes and he then he was kissing her again pressing her back into the wall as both his hands moved over her until at last they settled where her bodice was laced. His fingers moving quickly to loosen it. She shook her shoulders as it fell to the floor and she reached back to untie her skirt until it followed.

She stood there in only her shift and waited for the creeping nerves. She remembered all the times she had opened herself up and tried give a fraction of her heart to someone. All the mistakes and failures. But there no urge to run, no need to hide behind her walls. There was only Killian standing before her already holding all the damaged pieces of her heart.

She pulled the shift over her head and leaned back against the wall as his eyes moved hungrily over her devouring the sight.

“My princess,” he breathed reverently as he placed a chaste kiss to her lips and then moved to trace the edge of her jaw. She pushed him back an inch and he drew back at once looking up at her as if afraid she might reject him.

“I’m just Emma,” she told him taking his hand and placing it over her heart. “Right now, with you, I’m just Emma.”

He stared at his hand on her for a moment before leaning back into her.

“Emma,” he said, her name a whispered prayer as he placed a kiss at the hollow behind her ear and kissed down the column of her neck. She sucked in a breath in surprise as his teeth nipped at the soft skin there.

“Emma,” he repeated as he bent to kiss her collarbone, her shoulder. His lips leaving a path of fire in their wake. He kissed right over her heart where his hand had been and she wondered if he could feel it trying to pound its way out of her chest.

He kissed down the side of her breast dropping to his knees before her. “Emma,” he breathed again into the skin at the bottom of her ribs making her shiver.

He moved lower still marking a path down her stomach his hands tracing the curve of her hips. One hand warm and one hand cool against her, the contrasting feelings driving her wild. His nose pressed into the dip beside her hip bone. “Emma,” he murmured one more time as he kissed there too.

He looked up at her silently asking permission as he lifted her leg behind her knee and eased it over his shoulder. She couldn’t have managed words if her life had depended on it. Instead she gave him a small nod and closed her eyes tilting her head back against the wall as he moved closer pressing kisses to her inner thigh until at last he reached the place they were both waiting for.

Her hand flew to his hair as she scrambled to get some purchase to maintain her balance. He groaned against her and she thought she might implode. Fire pounded through her veins sparking off her like lightning. She was a shooting star burning as she climbed higher and higher. She clung to him as she rose until all at once every nerve drew tight, pulling in and at last shimmering bliss radiated out of her, starlight dancing behind her eyes, and pleasure like sparks ran down to her toes, to the tips of her fingers. She let out a strangled sound as she slumped down the wall.

“Killian,” she said his name a desperate sound. He caught her against his chest holding her close.

“You’re beautiful,” he told her in that ernest tone that made her heart clench in her chest. Naked and trembling in his arms after what they had just done, and it was his words and the truth in his eyes that made her blush.

He leaned forward nuzzling into her chest, his breath warm against her. But she needed more. She needed him. 

She stood on slightly unsteady legs and pulled him up and over to the bed. He followed her willingly. She sank down on the edge of the mattress before running her fingers over the waistband of his trousers.

He was breathing heavily as she undid the laces and slid them down his legs her knuckles dragging over his skin until he kicked them off. She trailed her fingers back up tracing over him making his breath hitch. She loved the sound, the needy expression in his eyes. She held his gaze as she lay back stretching over the soft bedspread.

The mattress dipped as he joined her leaning down over her. She shifted her legs wider, her hands finding the back of his neck and his hip. He braced himself on his elbow as he looked down at her.

“Are you-” he hesitated.

“I need you,” she said because it was the truth in every way. She leaned up from under him, her chest pressing to his as she pulled him into a kiss.

It opened a floodgate and he held her closer, cradling her. She arched up with a gasp as he pushed into her and her body throbbed around him.  

“Please,” she begged not even sure what she was pleading for. But as always he seemed to know her better than she knew herself and he started to move. She angled her hips meeting him over and over each motion a wave trying to drag her under.

She let out a needy whimper clawing at his shoulders as he quickened his pace. And then he shifted, pulling her over on top of him and she loved the feeling as she rocked over him. It was only another minute before she was falling again, pulling him over the edge with her, and she collapsed onto his chest both of them breathing heavily.

He held her tightly his face buried in her neck. She could hear him murmuring something against her but couldn’t make out the words with ecstasy still echoing in her ears. She rolled off him curling into his side and he wrapped an arm around her holding her close, his lips pressing a kiss into her hair.

She wanted to stay awake all night, just to savor it or even just to watch him sleep beside her, but already she could feel sleep pulling her under. Her body exhausted and her mind drowsy from pleasure.

She woke the next morning to the sound of ship bells ringing in the harbor before there was any hint of sun in the sky. She felt Killian tense and roll away from her. 

She turned to see him sit up, his legs falling over the edge of the bed. He pushed a hand through his hair as if trying to rouse himself fully from sleep before he reached out to grab for his trousers beside the bed.

Fear washed over her. Was he going to leave her? The ship bells, was he still planning on sailing off with them?

“Stay,” she said her voice a little rough with sleep. “Killian, please.”

He looked over at her, brows pulled down in confusion. “Stay?” he asked her.

“I thought,” she glanced down at her hand on the sheets beside her, her mother’s ring on her finger, suddenly feeling embarrassed and vulnerable, the bitter twist of rejection knotting her stomach, “after last night…”

He moved closer to her, pulling one leg back beneath the sheets. “Emma, darling, I’m not leaving you,” he said reaching out to lift her chin and pull her gaze to his. “There isn’t a force in this world strong enough to pull me from your side now.”

She stared. “Then why are you getting up?” she asked.

A smile pulled at his lips. “Because the town is waking up. And your people are going to be getting worried about you.”

She shook her head. “They know where I am. And I don’t think I’m ready to leave this bed just yet.”

He bit down on his bottom lip, a devilish glint in his eyes. “Is that right?” he asked.

She nodded solemnly at him. “I think we could stay in this bed for several more hours.”

He lifted a hand to scratch at his chin. “Several more hours?” he repeated.

“Mmhmm,” she hummed. “At least that long.”

He gave a small bow with a sweep of his hand. “As my lady commands,” he said settling back down beside her. “Your heart’s desire, that’s all I want you to have.”

She smirked at him. “Well, actually there are a few things I  _desire_  from you.”

He clucked his tongue. “Taking advantage of your power and subjects already I see,” he said.

“I was planning on reciprocating,” she said watching as his eyes darkened with lust, “I can be a fair ruler.”

“Very magnanimous,” he complimented. “Seems you’ll be a great princess.”

She smiled sitting up and moving to straddle his hips. He looked up at her with something like wonder. His hand came to rest at her hip as she leaned down. Her hair brushed his shoulder as she paused just a breath away from his lips. “Well, I had a good teacher.”

His chuckle was cut off as she kissed him the sound turning to a growl in the back of his throat that sent a shiver through her. She didn’t resist when he rolled them, his weight settling over her and she held him close as a new day dawned around them.


End file.
